What Have I Got Without You
by Neverland-Gleek-Lost-In-Oz
Summary: Blaine is the Lieutenant at Miami Metro Police Department, and it's a slow day at the station when he meets a blue-eyed man with a laugh like an angel. He does what he can to impress the stranger. But will he be able to protect his new-found loved one from each of their pasts? (Warnings of violence and possible triggers in future chapters)
1. Early Introductions

Chapter 1: Early Introductions

Blaine sat at his desk, bored, twirling a pen in his fingers. The station was quiet today. No new cases were sent to him or his detectives. He had nothing to do but wait.

"Hey, Anderson," Officer Lopez smiled at him as she peeked into his office, and he waved back absentmindedly. "Not gonna say hello to your big sis?"

"You're not my sister, Santana," Blaine retorted. "Our parents have gone on two dates—we're not siblings."

"We might as well be, baby brother," she said in a sing-song voice before strutting to her own desk.

Blaine rolled his hazel-green eyes, leaning back in his leather chair as he tapped his pen on the desk, creating some sort of rhythm that he couldn't name for the life of him. He was close to drifting to sleep when he heard a knock on his office door. He was about to snap at Santana to leave him alone when he opened his eyes and saw a pale-faced, blue-eyed boy standing there, smiling small. "H-Hi," the boy—well, man; he looked about twenty-two—said. "Can I ask you a question? I just moved in here in the city and I have no idea where anything is. Can you tell me where any art supplies stores are close to here?"

Blaine took a few extra seconds to answer—he hadn't realized he'd been staring until the stranger cleared his throat and gave him an odd look. "Oh! Um, yeah—I'm pretty sure Annie's Art Shop is just around the corner. Turn left right down the road out of here and you can't miss it."

"Damn," the man laughed. "I was literally just there. Guess I didn't see the sign or something."

Blaine chuckled, smiling brightly at him. "No worries. Everybody gets a little lost sometimes." They both nodded, the blue-eyed man clearing his throat awkwardly before waving and turning to leave. "Wait!" Blaine stopped him, not sure what he was doing. The man shot him a questioning glance, leaning against the door frame.

"Yes?"

"I could… give you a little tour of the city if you'd like. I mean, it's a slow Sunday. Nothing's going on here at the station."

"No, I couldn't impose, Lieutenant—"

"Please," Blaine insisted, smiling. "It's no trouble. And we can't have you getting lost. Miami's a big place."

"I-I guess…" The pale boy smiled slightly, stepping into the office. Blaine grinned at him and grabbed his cell phone off the desk before standing up.

"Great. I'll just tell the Captain that I'll be back in a few hours. You can wait here if you'd like. Or go back to your car. Whatever you want." Blaine smiled at him again before disappearing from the office and walking quickly to another large office. He exchanged a few words with a tall, dark-haired man who looked vaguely similar to himself before returning to his office.

"Thanks for this, Lieutenant—"

"Call me Blaine," he insisted with a friendly smile, trying to tone down the giddy school boy grin that was plastered to his face. Gosh, this man was gorgeous. And his voice was so high and wispy, even though he obviously tried to hide some of its high-pitched quality, and Blaine found that oddly angelic.

"Okay," the man laughed lightly. And _oh _that laugh was beautiful. "Blaine. My name's Kurt. Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," Blaine nodded, at last regaining his usual charming tact. It was a huge step-up from a star-struck high school boy that he was acting like at first sight of _Kurt. What a lovely name_. "Your carriage or mine? I'm sure yours is much more fashionable than a black and white police car."

Kurt laughed, stuffing his hands in his pockets to grab his keys. "My car it is, then. And I do need to stop by the art shop before we go anywhere else."

"I'm in no rush," Blaine shrugged. "I've got all day unless the Captain calls me in. But nothing's been happening all day so I think we're good."

"Sounds good to me," Kurt smiled. He started the car once they were both seated and started driving away from the police station. "I needed a good tour guide. And you must know your way around the city, being on the force and all."

Blaine chuckled. "That and I've lived here all my life, pretty much. I've known my way around the city since I was ten."

"I came here from New York, so I like big cities. But I've never been to Florida." Blaine looked at him.

"New York City, huh? Why'd you leave?"

"That's a long story for another time," Kurt smiled sadly, shaking his head as he drove. Now wasn't the time to freak out. It was simply memories, after all, that were bothering his dry eyes.

"Sorry if I—"

"No, no; it's fine. Just… I've just got something in my eye, that's all." Kurt shook his head again, effectively clearing any evidence of salty droplets from his itchy eyes. He had to calm down or he wouldn't be able to focus and he'd crash into a palm tree or something. That'd be embarrassing and dangerous—therefore, probably not the best idea to get worked up.

"Alright," Blaine nodded, uncertain. He hoped he hadn't already scared him off. After all, he was already imagining their first date, first kiss, first house, first kids—he couldn't bear it if he scared away his love at first sight. Was that going a bit too far? Perhaps. But there's nothing wrong with dreaming big. They drove to the art shop in silence the rest of the way. Blaine mentally slapped himself because he couldn't help but think that he'd already made Kurt close up and refuse to socialize with him further.

"Are you coming in or not? It might take a while. And there's air conditioning in the store," Kurt told him as he climbed out of the car. Blaine looked up, surprised.

"Oh… Yeah. Yeah, I'll come in, then." He blushed slightly as he climbed out of the car, avoiding Kurt's questioning glance. "What is it that you need to buy?" They walked side-by-side into the store and Kurt hummed, considering.

"Probably some canvases. And some new paints. I brought most of my supplies with me from New York, but a lot of the paint couldn't be shipped on the plane because of some chemical it's made with, I guess. It sucks, financially, because now I have to buy all new paint."

Blaine nodded in acknowledgment. "So you're an artist," he observed interestedly as Kurt browsed through the shelves and stuffed various colors, which looked mostly like the same shade to Blaine, into his shopping basket.

"Yeah," Kurt smiled. "I majored in 3-D design at NYU. It started out as fashion design, but I sort of branched out from there once I realized I wouldn't be staying in New York much longer. My internship was there, and I couldn't find anyone else to hire me." Kurt's smile dropped subtly and he stuffed his hands in his pockets—Blaine noticed each action. He appeared to regret telling Blaine, a complete stranger, all of this information about himself. "Sorry," he laughed hollowly, shaking his head slightly. "You probably don't want to hear all about that. The point is… yes. Yes, I am an artist. And I really enjoy it."

"Well, they say if you enjoy what you do, you never work a day in your life," Blaine commented, and he could almost sense the relief in Kurt's expression since he decided not to ask further on the subject. "So how did you manage to find an art studio here in Miami? There aren't many good locations, are there?" Kurt shook his head.

"I didn't, actually. The main room of my apartment is currently cluttered with my supplies and everything. It's my own little makeshift studio, I guess." Kurt smiled faintly. It was back to the easy subjects, which he was obviously grateful for. Blaine made note not to directly ask anymore about his life in New York or his reasons for leaving. "I still haven't managed to sell a single painting since I finished college," he shrugged. "But I enjoy it. And my parents support me, so I'm not completely broke."

"Maybe I'll stop by and buy a couple of your paintings," Blaine suggested nonchalantly. He truly meant it—he wanted to see Kurt's work—but he hadn't meant to sound quite so forward. "I mean… Would it be okay with you if I took a look at some of your work?"

Kurt laughed lightly, nodding. He stuffed a few more paint bottles in his basket before moving on to find a canvas. He wasn't looking at any regular canvases, though. "That would be nice, actually." He ran his fingertips over a glass cube, clear as ice. He smiled, examining it, and murmured something like 'this'll work nicely.'

"What are you looking at?" Blaine asked curiously, smiling.

"Nothing yet," Kurt responded vaguely. "But it'll be something when I'm finished with it." He glanced at Blaine, smiling faintly, before turning back to the cube and gently placing it in his basket. He grabbed a few more flat canvases and some paintbrushes along with a pick and mallet. Was he a sculptor, too? Blaine couldn't help but wonder. "Okay. I'm ready to go. Just let me pay for these and we can get going on—shoot!" he checked his pants pockets, frowning. "I forgot my wallet at my apartment…" He sighed sadly as he turned to put his supplies away, but Blaine stopped him, grabbing his wrist gently.

"You don't have to put it back," Blaine told him, worried by the scared expression on Kurt's face as he looked at Blaine's grip on his wrist. Blaine let go of him, not wanting to frighten him. "I'll pay."

"Blaine, you don't have to—"

"I want to," he insisted, smiling softly.

"I promise I'll pay you back," Kurt told him, agreeing reluctantly.

"No need," Blaine chuckled. "I assure you, it's no big deal. You get your supplies and I get to see whatever it is that you're gonna make out of the glass." Kurt smiled faintly, shaking his head.

"I'm still gonna pay you back, dork." Blaine laughed, and Kurt rolled his eyes as he walked past Blaine to put his things on the cashier's counter.

"Sorry, but I'm still not gonna let you," Blaine laughed again, placing a firm hand on Kurt's shoulder as he watched the cashier ring them up and tell them the price. Blaine paid and helped pack up the items into separate bags so the glass wouldn't break. "Thank you," he told the employee before walking with Kurt back to the light-haired boy's car.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Blaine shrugged, smiling. "You're welcome." They drove with the radio on low volume back to the police station and Blaine suddenly had an idea. "Have you ever ridden in a police car?"

Kurt looked at him nervously as they pulled into the parking lot, pulling the car to a stop. "No…"

"Would you like to?" Blaine asked. He hoped he wasn't trying too hard to get this man's attention. He really hoped he wasn't coming across as desperate.

"I suppose," Kurt nodded, smiling slightly.

"I promise it's a blast. People clear the road for you in seconds. Kinda makes you feel like a celebrity, minus the sirens, of course. That does diminish the momentary feeling of stardom." Kurt laughed, nodding again.

"Okay. You've convinced me. Where are your keys?" Blaine raised an eyebrow and Kurt smiled slyly. "I want to drive." Blaine laughed quietly, grinning broadly.

"Alright. I suppose what the Captain doesn't know won't hurt him. He's my brother, after all; he can't exactly fire me."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go live like the stars," Kurt said excitedly, taking Blaine's keys when they were held out for him. They both climbed into Blaine's black and white car, Kurt in the driver's side, and Kurt started the car, startling when he accidentally started the sirens. "Okay, how do I turn these off?"

Blaine laughed and pressed a button below the HAM radio speaker. "Are you sure you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Not a clue," Kurt shook his head.

"In that case, let's drive," Blaine chuckled.

* * *

"_That _was the most exhilarating thing I've done in a long time," Kurt giggled as he collapsed on his bed, which was currently just a mattress on the floor of his small bedroom.

"Almost getting us killed by narrowly missing a tree is not exactly what I call fun," Blaine shook his head fondly, smiling. He sat on the bean bag chair in the middle of the room, looking over at Kurt, who looked so peaceful and at ease. He looked so happy. Blaine decided that he always wanted to see Kurt this way. Not worry lines or fear outlining his fake smile. No uncertainty or doubt lining his blemish-free face. Just ease and happiness relaxing his entire body.

"Aw, come on," he pouted playfully, looking over at Blaine with a small smile. "You do that sort of stuff all the time, right? Cop chases and what not? Admit it; it was fun."

_It was. Because I was with you._ "I guess it was alright," Blaine conceded. "I don't understand how you passed your driving test when you were seventeen, though." Kurt laughed.

"I cheated. And there may or may not have been bribes involved. I'm a terrible driver."

"Oh?" Blaine teased. "I hadn't noticed."

"Shut up." Kurt threw a couch pillow at him, laughing.

"I like this one," Blaine commented, looking at a painting that was hung crookedly on Kurt's bedroom wall. "One of yours?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah. I made that one for my mom, actually. I still keep it with me… to remember."

Blaine looked at him, brow furrowed. He wasn't sure if he'd heard right. But he didn't want to ask. _Oh, your mother is dead? I'm so sorry. _He knew as well as anyone that hearing the repetitive 'I'm sorry for your loss' was worse than any condolence. It was a reminder of the sadness from the day he'd died. It was a reminder of the week after when his mother had already met another guy.

"Blaine? Are you okay? You look pale. Do you need some water?" Kurt ran to the kitchen and filled a glass with water, giving it to Blaine when he returned to the room. Blaine shook his head and drank the water in one gulp before looking at Kurt.

"My dad died when I was twenty-three."

"I was sixteen. My mom died of Leukemia." Blaine nodded, understanding.

"My dad was shot," Blaine choked out. "He was the Lieutenant and he went out to find this guy who had kidnapped a little girl. He went by himself when he was told not to go, and he was shot once he found the little girl and the kidnapper. They caught him afterwards, because my dad had led them to where he was hidden. But my dad didn't survive to see the little girl rescued. I've been Lieutenant ever since."

Kurt nodded sadly. There was nothing to say. They both knew 'I'm sorry' would do no good. It wouldn't bring their loved ones back. It wouldn't erase the tragic experience of losing a parent before their time was finished. "Sorry I brought it up…" Kurt bit his lip. He hadn't meant to send Blaine down memory lane.

"I should go," Blaine cleared his throat. "Captain just texted me. They need me back at the station." Blaine refused to let his tears fall. It was only memories now, after all. Nothing to be done. Grievances and tear-jumbled words could be uttered later at a headstone with flowers placed in memory.

"Can I call you later?" Kurt asked as Blaine stood to leave. Blaine looked back at him, smiling faintly.

"Of course. Here's my number," he said shakily as he scribbled his number onto the notebook on Kurt's dresser. "That's my cell and the number for my station office. Call anytime." Kurt nodded, watching as Blaine left the apartment.

Blaine subtly navigated through traffic and back to the station, still forcing his tears to remain concealed throughout the rest of the workday. "There's been a robbery downtown," Cooper told him the older Anderson brother stepped into his brother's office. "The thief almost got away. But Santana caught up to him. But we don't know for sure if it's the same guy since he took off his mask and ditched the money, so they just need a witness to send the guy to jail for a year. Can you talk to the lady from the bank? She's still pretty shaken and she refuses to talk to Santana because she, as you know, is intimidating—"

"—she just doesn't know when to shut her mouth—"

"—and we thought you could do the job better since you actually know how to act around people."

"Is the woman hurt or just scared?" Blaine asked, looking up. Back to work now. He couldn't afford to be seen as unprofessional.

"She's just frightened. She'll be okay."

"Send me in," Blaine stood up, following his brother to a room where an unfamiliar woman was sitting with her hands on the table. He took a deep breath as he stepped into the soundproof room.

"Why do I have to be handcuffed to the table?" the woman asked shakily. She was young, no older than twenty, with thin black hair and blue eyes that held sharp contrast to her pale face. She looked utterly terrified, and it shined through when she met Blaine's eyes. "I didn't do anything wrong. I just want to go home. Please let me go home."

"We just need to ask you a few questions, ma'am," Blaine told her calmly.

"You're much nicer about it than that other woman," she observed. Blaine smiled.

"That's Santana. Ignore her. She's only here because she knows how to catch a criminal. She has no people skills whatsoever." The woman nodded. "Now all I need is for you to describe the man who robbed your bank today so we can sentence him. Now, what's your name?"

"Becca."

"And is this the man you saw come in to the bank today?" He held up a photo of the man in questioning. Luckily, Santana and Officer Grant had arrived just in time to save the residents at the bank from being shot by the masked man, but he had run. Santana caught up to him, of course, but they still had no way of knowing for sure if the man in custody was the same man who'd robbed the bank.

"H-He was wearing a mask…" she shook her head. "I could only see his eyes. They were blue and green… and they were cold. I just saw his eyes when he pointed the gun at me…"

"Did he say anything to you?" Blaine asked.

"Just to put the money in the bag…"

"If you heard his voice, is there any way you could identify him?" Becca nodded. "That's all we need you to do, then. He won't be able to see you, but you'll see him and hear him. Can you do that for me?" She nodded again. "Thank you for your cooperation." Blaine smiled kindly and unlatched her handcuffs before turning to leave the room. "She said she can identify him if she hears his voice," he told Cooper and Santana as he walked back to his office. They looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Of course he'd be the only one to be able to calm the woman down enough to get her to talk. He was charming and he looked as harmless as a puppy.

"That's why we need him, Satan," Cooper smiled, nudging her shoulder as she glared at him. The nickname had sort of stuck after the youngest Anderson—he was a four-year-old named Jackson—had called her that. The child couldn't say her full name. "He's good at this."

"I'm telling you, Coop," Santana glowered; "I'm going to be Lieutenant soon and he's gonna be back to the everyday calls, just like me. You know I'm better at this."

"I think the woman you nearly scared to death would say differently," Cooper smirked.

"Oh, please," she shook her head. "I saved her life. That guy had her at gun point."

"I suppose you're right."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she bit out as she followed him to his office. He shut the door on her face. "Cooper Anderson, this is not over!" she shouted through the door.

Blaine rolled his eyes as he listened to them bicker. They always did this. Oddly enough, though, he wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

**A/N: Okay! So I know I've been lazy with the updates lately, but that'll change soon since I only have one more week of school. But here's the beginning of a new story that I thought of. I think this is the first story I've started where I have pretty much the entire thing mapped out in my head. **

**Let me know what you think and if you want to read more. **

**Peace off. **


	2. The Safest Place Is Here WIth Me

Chapter 2: The Safest Place Is Here With Me

Kurt sat at home, brainstorming. He tried to focus on pulling inspiration from his surroundings for ideas on his newest project, but he couldn't seem to get Blaine off of his mind. He really hoped he hadn't scared him off by mentioning his mother's death. How was he supposed to know that Blaine had lost his father just years ago?

He groaned and buried his face in his pillow, lying on his stomach on his bed. What was really getting to him was the color of Blaine's eyes. He was an artist, so he could usually tell colors apart easily. He could see the slightest difference in dozens of shades of red and green and blue and even gray, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what color Blaine's eyes were. They appeared brown at first glance, but there was something more than that. Kurt couldn't quite place it. The tint of green and even orange in certain lights was throwing him off.

He just wished Blaine hadn't needed to leave. He truly liked spending time with Blaine. He felt safer than he'd ever felt since leaving New York. It wasn't paranoia and it definitely wasn't irrational fear, but he'd always been afraid of… something, before meeting Blaine. Being around Blaine gave him the closest thing to a sense of security since he'd had since he moved out of Rachel's apartment and had found his own.

He'd almost felt safe when he got his first double lock on his apartment door.

He'd almost felt safe when he'd moved to the top floor of his building, where the fire escape didn't reach and where there was no balcony or window.

He'd almost felt safe when he'd talked to an attorney, trying to convict his attacker of assault; to no avail. The trial didn't hold up and the man had walked away free of charge.

He'd lost that fake sense of security the minute he'd left the hospital room where he'd been kept alive only by machines.

But now… with Blaine, he felt safe. He felt like he wouldn't have to worry about anyone targeting him ever again. After all, there was no way the random stranger from New York who had attacked him could have possibly followed him to Florida. There was no way he could've tracked him down after he'd fled the state… right?

He hadn't realized he'd been crying until he felt a wet spot on his pillow touch his cheek. He sat up in bed, pulling his knees to his chest. His eyes widened when he heard a noise in the kitchen. He ran to his front door, locking the deadbolt and the top lock before sliding his back down the door and to the ground. He glanced around his apartment, noting that a plate had fallen from the too-full sink of dishes. He let out a breath of relief. He was alone. No one was going to hurt him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and walked with shaky legs back to his bed, crawling under the covers. He took a few calming breaths as he scrolled through his contacts list on his iPhone. He only had a few addresses: his parents (Burt and Carole), and only a few friends (Mercedes, Rachel, Finn, and Tina). His thumb hovered over his father's name before pressing 'call' and listening to it ring into his ear.

"Hey, kid," his father's cheerful voice said into the phone, making Kurt relax considerably. "How's Florida treating you so far? I miss you. We all do."

Kurt let out a shaky breath, covering the phone as he did so his father wouldn't hear. "I'm doing great. To be honest, I love the heat. I never thought I would, but it's nice. And my studio's all set up." He smiled slightly.

"That's good to hear, Kurt," Burt said. "It's good to hear your voice, you know. It's been a while since you called."

"I know." Kurt closed his eyes, holding the phone with both hands. "I've just been busy with moving. I miss you, dad… But I'm safe. I promise." He heard his dad hum.

"You make sure to call me if you ever feel unsafe again, yeah? I don't want a repeat of—"

"I know," Kurt cut him off, his voice almost breaking. "I'm fine. I'll call more, I swear." A pause. "I love you, dad."

"I love you, too, kid," Burt said gruffly. "We're coming to visit for Christmas, okay? We can't afford to visit much, but we'll try."

"I miss you, dad," Kurt smiled weakly. "I'll see you at Christmas."

"See you at Christmas, kid," Burt agreed. "Alright, I have to go now. Johnson doesn't know how to ring up the customers." Kurt laughed lightly. He really needed this. He hadn't talked to his dad in so long. "Call me as soon as you can, okay?"

"I will," Kurt said quietly, going silent as Burt hung up. He set his phone next to his mattress before closing his eyes. It was getting late and he was exhausted. He fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

_"Thanks, Rachel," Kurt laughed into his phone, walking confidently along the streets of New York City. "You're the best. I totally owe you one. You'll have to tell me all about it this weekend. I don't think I completely believe that you sold one of my paintings in one week that I've been trying to sell for almost a year."_

_"You'll hear every detail, I promise," Rachel told him, laughing as well. "Well, I have to go. Time for work! Those drinks won't serve themselves. Bye, Kurt. Love you."_

_"Love you, too," Kurt smiled, hanging up on his friend and stuffing his phone into his pocket. He was almost to his apartment, and he heard in the distance a street performer playing the guitar and singing. He smiled, listening to the familiar song he hadn't heard in a while. _

_He was paying so much attention to the music that he didn't notice he was being followed. _

_"Hey," a low voice said from right behind him, roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt and throwing him to the ground in a dark alley to his right. Disoriented, Kurt scrambled to his feet, backing away from the silhouette that was approaching him. His back hit a wall and he almost lost his footing, breathing ragged. "Scared, homo?" the mysterious man asked, sounding terrifyingly angry. "_Good," _he spat. Kurt closed his eyes as he was thrown to the ground again and his leg was stepped on, hard. He cried out in pain, confused when a hand to his left covered his mouth. The whole thing was disorienting and he realized his original attacker must have an accomplice with him, and that was who he guessed to be muffling his pained screams. The man above him muttered something to his ally before lifting Kurt to his feet—he winced when he put pressure on his probably broken leg. _

_"Please," Kurt whimpered, eyes still closed as he weakly tried to push his attacker away, but the man only laughed darkly. His fist collided with Kurt's jaw while the other man held his hands behind his back, nearly breaking his wrists. _

_"Maybe I'll just kill you, you little homo," the man spat out. "Walking around so confident with your fairy face and your fairy clothes—it's disgusting. Well, your face won't be so pretty now." Kurt struggled with the grip around his wrists, barely managing to hit the man behind him with his elbow and then punch the man in front of him in the gut. That only made the stranger angrier. _

_Kurt fell to the ground and tried to crawl away, _desperate_ to get away. His jaw ached and his leg throbbed painfully. He only made it to the lamp post with a flickering light atop its short black pole. That's when he felt something crushing his ankle. He guessed it was his attacker stepping on it. The man laughed again and brought him to his feet, pushing him roughly against the light post as his ally held Kurt's hands behind the pole. He was trapped now; with no way to get out. He felt the pole digging into his back and he winced as the man behind him pulled too hard on his wrists. He couldn't tell if his shoulder was dislocated or if his wrist was broken. His whole body ached and he couldn't distinguish which pain came from where. _

_"There's no point fighting back," the man in front of him laughed again as he punched him, hard, in the gut. Kurt whimpered in pain and the stranger held his head back against the pole, bringing his knee up and smashing it against Kurt's ribs. Kurt tried to scream but he choked on his own blood which he was close to coughing up. He realized only now that his nose was bleeding—that's where the blood in his throat was coming from. His leg was obviously broken and he would've fallen to the ground if his attacker's large hand wasn't wrapped around his throat, choking him and effectively holding him up as he continued to knee him in the ribs. _

_Kurt's eyes fluttered shut and he was an inch from unconsciousness when he was violently thrown to the ground. He hit his head on the cement ground and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. He heard the faint ring of sirens in the background as he lay on the concrete, eyes closed and face contorted in pain. He was only vaguely aware of being carried away in an ambulance…_

Kurt shot bolt upright in his bed, waking up in a cold sweat. His breath was shaky and unnaturally rapid.

It was just a dream. A nightmare.

He let out a shaky sob as he brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. He hated those dreams. It was like he could feel everything all over again and he was living in the moment over and over and over. It reminded him that he wasn't truly safe, despite the false sense of security he felt when he was with Blaine. He ran his hands through his messy hair and got out of bed, wrapping his small blanket around his shoulders as he went to the kitchen. He made himself a cup of coffee. It was three in the morning and he still had several hours before he was supposed to be awake, but he knew he couldn't go back to sleep now.

He thought about calling his dad, but Burt would probably be asleep after a long night of overtime at the tire shop. He could call Rachel, but it was only one hour later there than it was in Florida. His best friend in New York would be sleeping as well. He could call Mercedes, but he wasn't sure if she'd be awake since it was about eleven at night in L.A.

He felt so utterly alone that he just wanted to cry.

He thought about Blaine. Blaine said to call him if he needed anything, and he definitely needed someone to talk to. But he didn't want to bother him at this hour…

He decided to be selfish just this once and call his new friend from Miami Metro. He returned to his room, coffee in hand, and grabbed his phone and the notebook with Blaine's phone number. He dialed Blaine's cell number with shaky hands and pressed the ringing phone to his ear with his eyes closed as he sipped his coffee. "Hello?" Blaine's voice said from the other line, sounding groggy with sleep.

"H-Hi…" Kurt choked out, his voice failing him. He cleared his throat. "Blaine? This is Kurt…"

"Oh," Blaine said. "Hey, Kurt; what are you doing up so early?"

"I couldn't sleep," Kurt said, hating the way his voice made him sound so small and helpless. He imagined he must have sounded very similar when pleading for his attackers to leave him alone.

"Are you alright?" Blaine asked, sounding so genuinely concerned that Kurt couldn't help but let a few tears fall.

"Y-Yeah… It-It's stupid. It was just a nightmare." It wasn't just a nightmare. But he didn't need to bother Blaine with his problems. "I'm sorry I woke you up."

"You didn't," Blaine assured him. "I was just about to get up and get ready for work. But I can spare a minute. What did you dream about?"

Kurt let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes tightly, taking a sip of his coffee and relaxing only slightly when he felt the liquid warm his veins. "I… The reason I left New York was because… I didn't feel safe. I was… attacked." His voice broke and he shuddered. "The guy who attacked me… he was never convicted. He's still out there somewhere and I just… I'm scared. I'm always scared."

"Kurt, I—"

Blaine frowned in concern, not sure what to say. What he wanted to do was drive over to Kurt's apartment, pulling the frightened boy into his arms, telling him he was safe and that he would protect him. But it was three in the morning, after all. That wasn't what normal people did at three in the morning. If Kurt was his _boyfriend, _that would make sense. But…

"Do you think he would come after you?"

"I don't know… I don't even remember his name… I just remember his face. And I don't know if he's still in New York or if he could be outside my door at this very moment…" Kurt felt his heart race, terrified by the thought.

"Can I come over?" Blaine found himself asking.

"I-It's too early, Blaine—"

"Please," Blaine insisted. "If you're scared, maybe I can help. I can protect you." Kurt's breath hitched. Perhaps he was right in thinking that he could feel safe around Blaine; that Blaine wouldn't let anything hurt him. Maybe Blaine could make him feel safe again; happy again.

"Y-Yeah… I mean, please do. That'd be great…" Kurt sipped his coffee again, shifting so his bottom half was completely covered by his blanket. He felt more secure when it was covering every inch of his body, but the blanket was too small.

"I'll be over in ten minutes, okay? Do you need me to stay on the phone?"

Kurt shook his head before realizing Blaine couldn't see him. "I'm okay."

"Okay. I will be there soon." Blaine quickly got dressed and got in his car, arriving at Kurt's apartment in just over five minutes. Kurt nearly spilled his coffee when he heard a knock on the door. He set his coffee on his dresser and wrapped his blanket around his shoulders as he walked to the door. He closed one eye and looked through the peep hole, relieved to see Blaine outside. He unlocked the door with shaky fingers and opened it, letting Blaine inside wordlessly. "Are you okay?" Blaine asked him, standing right in front of the white-faced man. Kurt's bottom lip trembled and he shook his head quickly, letting out a quiet sob as Blaine stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the shivering boy. "It's okay," Blaine whispered in his ear as the shorter man buried his face in his neck, crying. "I'm here. You're safe, I promise."

"I'll never be safe," Kurt whispered.

Blaine kissed the side of his head. "The safest place in the world for you is right here with me."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was very sad, I know. But I wanted to get that part out of the way before getting to the real stuff. It was very hard to write. I don't like sad Kurt :(**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed. The next chapter will be posted some time tonight because I'm obsessed with writing this storyline so far. **

**Peace off.**


	3. Past And Present

Chapter 3: Past And Present

Kurt woke up later that morning, confused. He didn't remember climbing back into bed after Blaine left. He didn't remember curling up in his too small blanket. He felt too warm, but not so much that it was uncomfortable.

Oh.

Now he remembered. He opened his eyes to see a mess of black curls falling on a beautiful, tan man's face. Blaine. He hadn't left. He'd stayed with Kurt and comforted him until he fell asleep. Then he must have carried him back to his bed and wrapped the blanket around him.

But the strangest thing was that he'd slept the past couple hours with no nightmares. It was six in the morning now and he knew Blaine should probably be leaving for work, but the thought of Blaine leaving scared him. He felt safe and warm and happy with Blaine's warm arm draped over his torso, subconsciously pulling Kurt closer. Okay, so he was a cuddle whore. Kurt could definitely get used to that. He shook Blaine's shoulders lightly, turning in his arms to face him. "Blaine… Blaine, wake up," he whispered, his throat dry and his voice raspy from crying.

"Hmm..?" Blaine hummed contentedly, cracking his eyes open to look at Kurt. "Hi, there."

Kurt smiled slightly. "Hi…"

Blaine looked at Kurt with concern, opening his eyes more. "You didn't have another nightmare, did you? Is that why you're awake..?" Kurt shook his head, fingers trembling as they played with the edge of his blanket.

"No… I didn't have any more nightmares." Kurt smiled, relieved.

"That's good," Blaine grinned, reaching up to cup his cheek gently in his palm and press a kiss to his forehead.

"I-I think it was because I had you here with me…" Kurt thought aloud. "I feel… safe… when I'm with you."

"That's why I stayed," Blaine smiled sadly. "I didn't want to leave you alone. I couldn't."

"Why do you care so much about me?" Kurt asked hesitantly. "I mean… we just met. I hardly know you and you know next to nothing about me."

"I know that you're an artist." Kurt smiled faintly. "I know that you've obviously had terrible things happen to you in the past, and I want to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. I know that you're funny, artistic, kind. I know that I want to protect you as much as I possibly can."

"Blaine, I—"

"And I know that your eyes are the most beautiful color of blue I've ever seen," Blaine continued, smiling softly and caressing Kurt's tear-stained cheek with his thumb. Kurt blushed, shaking his head as Blaine's hand moved down to hold his. Kurt looked at their linked hands with lips slightly parted, surprised. "I could protect you if you'd let me. And I could make you happy."

"I am happy." Kurt smiled, breathless. "Right here… with you. I want to be with you."

"I'm all yours," Blaine assured him gently, leaning in close and stealing a kiss on the cheek. Kurt's breath hitched at the action, his heart caught in his throat. He looked at Blaine with wide eyes, cheeks flushed.

"Can… Can I kiss you?" he asked quietly. Blaine just nodded, a faint trace of a smile pulling at his pink lips. Kurt tilted his head to the side slightly as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Blaine's, his eyes falling shut.

Blaine smiled into the kiss, not moving for a second before he remembered he should probably _react _to the kiss in some way. His lips moved languidly against Kurt's, melding together into one satisfied smile. After a few moments, they both broke the kiss, coming up for air. "I… I really, _really _care about you, Kurt. And I promise I won't let anyone hurt you."

Kurt stared at him, speechless. He didn't really need words at the moment, so he just shifted so he could rest his head on Blaine's warm chest. The black-haired man wrapped his arms around Kurt's torso, holding him close for as long as he could before he'd have to leave for work.

* * *

"I'm sorry… I just have this one case to handle today. Then I'm all yours for the rest of the day." Blaine pecked Kurt's lips lightly as he got out of the car at the station. "You can come inside. You don't have to wait out here."

Kurt sighed, getting out of the car and following Blaine inside his office. "So what kind of case is it?"

"A guy robbed a bank and we need the lady who was working there at the time to speak as a witness. Otherwise we'll have a hard time prosecuting him. He didn't leave fingerprints, so there's not much proof. He obviously knew what he was doing."

"So I can't come in there with you?" Kurt frowned, looking down.

"It'll only take a few minutes, I swear." Blaine smiled faintly. "I'll be back soon." Kurt nodded, sitting down in Blaine's leather chair and spinning slowly, playing with a pen from his desk. He looked up and smiled faintly at Blaine, who left the office with a small smile.

"Who's the guy?" Santana asked him once he'd stepped out of his office. Blaine shook his head and kept walking towards the back room where they would identify the suspect. "Seriously, Blainers; who is he?"

"Kurt," he responded shortly. He just wanted to get this over with and get back to Kurt, and he couldn't do that if he was the one being interrogated by his own sister. Well, not really sister.

"And? Are you two together or something?" she persisted, smiling. "Come on! I'm totally happy for you if you are."

"What are we talking about?" Cooper asked as he fell into step with them, walking down the stairs to the room where the suspect was waiting.

"Blainers has a boyfriend," Santana supplied.

"Shut up, Santana," Blaine told her. But then he realized he had yet to actually identify Kurt as his boyfriend. That's what they were now, right? He would talk to him about it.

"Is it that guy who came in to ask directions yesterday?" Cooper questioned. "He asked me where an art store was but I said I didn't know. Is that where you disappeared to? With him?"

Blaine nodded sheepishly. "I'm not discussing this, Coop. Let's just question this guy and sentence him."

"Agreed," Cooper shrugged, coughing back a laugh when Santana made a gesture of shooting Cupid's arrow in Blaine's back. Blaine looked back at them, glowering before turning a corner in the hallway and arriving at the door of the one-way glass windowed room. There sat the suspect… and Blaine's blood ran cold. He almost collapsed. He recognized the man; that was certain. It was his high school tormentor whose prime goal in sophomore, junior, and senior year was to make Blaine's life a living Hell. How on earth did he end up in Florida again? Blaine distinctly remembered him saying he was going to follow Blaine to New York after high school; and that he was going to continue to threaten the very ground Blaine walked on. That was the whole reason why Blaine bought a round trip ticket, stopping in New York but then returning to Florida straightaway. He was trying to throw him off his scent so he would, hopefully, never see him again.

The man's name… Sebastian Smythe. He still had that stupid smirk plastered to his face.

Unlike most of his bullies in high school, whom Blaine could easily avoid, Sebastian was smart. He would corner him and plan ahead. The rest would simply shove him into lockers; nothing serious. Sebastian would do much, much worse.

He'd push him into lockers just like the rest, but he made plans. He would slam him into a locker right where he knew it would make Blaine fall and knock over the garbage can, or hit his head on it.

He'd mess with the toilets in the boys' bathroom right before he knew Blaine was going to use it. The toilet would spray a stream of water at him when he flushed, and then Sebastian and his allies would shove his head into the toilet, barely giving him enough time to hold his breath. Most of the time, he didn't get the chance, so he ended up swallowing the disgusting water.

Blaine shuddered, remembering the several instances when Sebastian had called him actual hurtful names, rather than the meaningless slurs the others shouted at him. And something about the way Sebastian hissed them into his ear as he passed him in the hallway was so much worse.

"Blaine? Are you alright? You look pale," Santana observed. The thing about Santana was that she could come across as totally heartless and ruthless; but when she truly cared about someone, she was one of the best friends someone could ever ask for. She had a good heart, even if it didn't always show.

"I'm fine," Blaine cleared his throat. "I just… don't think I can do this… I need some air. Can you guys handle this one?" Cooper and Santana both nodded, looking concerned.

He knew that Sebastian wouldn't even have the chance to see him, but the fact that he would be within twenty feet of his prime tormentor from high school.

He walked back to his office, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead and plastering a smooth smile to his face when he came into Kurt's view. Kurt smiled at him. "Well, that was fast," he commented, standing up and grinning when Blaine wrapped him up in a warm hug. He hugged back enthusiastically, palms flat against Blaine's toned back.

"Yeah." Blaine smiled. "Turns out they didn't need me for this one, after all. So where do you want to go? We can go have lunch together." Kurt nodded happily. He was much closer to being 'okay' now that he'd had his morning coffee to the fullest extent. He'd only had a few sips from the mug he'd made earlier.

"I saw this place yesterday on my way here that sounded nice. We can have lunch there." Blaine nodded, smiling. The truth was he didn't want Sebastian anywhere near Kurt; not in the same building, and definitely not in the same room. He knew they would be bringing Sebastian out and through the main office to bring him to the jail house, and he didn't want Sebastian to see either of them.

They drove with the radio playing an 'Owl City' song that made absolutely no sense, scanning the roadsides until they spotted the restaurant that Kurt had mentioned.

"Fun part about being the Lieutenant's boyfriend? You get to ride shotgun in the cop car." Blaine chuckled, wrapping his arm around Kurt's waist. Kurt hummed in acknowledgment to what Blaine said; he was suddenly very aware of the many stares he was getting after climbing out of a patrol car with Blaine Anderson. He was apparently well-known in this part of Miami. "Ignore them. They're just not used to seeing me with anyone besides my brother." Kurt nodded, swallowing thickly. He hated all the attention. Getting noticed was what nearly got him killed.

They sat down at a booth, Kurt cozying up next to Blaine's side as they ordered from the café's menu. They both ordered chicken Caesar salads and Blaine ordered a turkey avocado sandwich to go with his own meal. They both settled for medium waters.

"This place is nice," Blaine commented, smiling at Kurt.

"So… I'm your boyfriend?" That was all that was on Kurt's mind now that he'd gotten over—mostly—the stares and odd glances he kept receiving.

Blaine burst into a grin. "Yeah. I mean, if you want to be."

"I'd like that," Kurt smiled.

"I would, too."

* * *

"So… you want me to tell you… everything?" Kurt asked hesitantly, wringing his hands together as he sat cross-legged on his bed, looking at Blaine who was sitting in front of him in the same way.

Blaine nodded; his expression soft as he reached out and held Kurt's hands in his own. "I'll be right here the whole time and I promise you're safe with me. I won't let anything hurt you ever again." Kurt looked at him in shock. The whole scene was hard to get used to. He wasn't used to people, other than his family, actually caring about his well-being.

"Okay…" Kurt nodded, taking a breath to calm down. "I was just walking home from a fun night with my step-brother, and I was talking on the phone with my friend. The second I hung up, I was grabbed and thrown into a dark alley…" He choked on his own words, squeezing Blaine's hands tightly. Blaine moved so he was sitting next to Kurt and he could wrap his arms around him. Kurt clutched handfuls of Blaine's t-shirt in his fists, clinging to him as he continued. "He wasn't alone, and the other guy covered my mouth so I couldn't scream…" Kurt closed his eyes, feeling so helpless.

"You don't have to continue if it's too hard," Blaine told him. "It's okay."

"No. I want to tell you. Just give me a minute." Kurt exhaled shakily, his head resting on Blaine's shoulder as Blaine slowly laid them down on the pillow. "The one guy held my hands while the leader, I guess he was, kept hitting me. He broke my leg, my ankle, my wrist, and more than half of my ribs. My shoulder was dislocated and one of the broken ribs punctured my lung so I was basically on my death bed for months before I could go home after recovering from surgery and everything else.

"The worst part was… I couldn't get away. There were two of them so I couldn't get away. I tried. I tried crawling away but he just got angrier and he started smashing my ribs with his knee…"

"Kurt… You don't need to do this."

But Kurt just went on. Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop. He had to get it all out before he lost his courage to do so. He had to let Blaine know. He had to tell Blaine everything. He _wanted _to tell Blaine everything. "They ran away when they heard cops coming and then I was carried away in an ambulance and rushed into surgery immediately. I guess somebody must have heard or seen something and called nine-one-one. But no one actually tried to save me; no one tried to stop them from beating me to death… I just got lucky enough to survive. Barely."

Blaine rubbed Kurt's back in soothing circles, kissing his forehead and holding him as close as he could. "Did they catch the guys who did it?"

Kurt shook his head, trembling. "Not exactly. I told the cops what I could, and they found them. But I couldn't identify them because it was dark and I didn't see their faces. It didn't hold up in court because I had no proof. There weren't even any fingerprints because they were wearing gloves or something. They're still out there somewhere… And I still have nightmares." Kurt shut his eyes tightly, tugging Blaine closer.

"Does it help… when I'm here? Are the nightmares easier to handle?"

"I think so," Kurt murmured.

"Then I'll stay here every night if you need me to. I promise I won't leave."

"Stay with me until I'm sleeping..?" Kurt asked, his heart thumping loudly in his ears after recalling the terror of his attack for the second time this week.

"Of course," Blaine promised. "Always."

* * *

**A/N: New record! First three chapters posted in one day! Unfortunately, the next chapter probably won't be posted until next weekend because I have to do schoolwork. **

**Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter it starts to heat up a bit. More puzzle pieces fall into place and Blaine may care about Kurt too much for his own good. It may lead them into some trouble with the demon from their pasts. (I know what I said. Yes, I mean ****_demon, _****as in singular, and ****_pasts, _****as in plural). **

**Review. **

**Peace off.**


	4. Demon Of Our Pasts

Chapter 4: Demon Of Our Pasts

"I haven't had a boyfriend since I left New York…"

Blaine looked at Kurt, who was resting on the Lieutenant's chest with his eyes closed. "Okay…"

"I mean…" Kurt sighed. "I _had _one before I left. But we broke up when I decided to leave. He couldn't handle the distance."

Blaine nodded. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Then again, there wasn't much else to do but listen and be there. "Was he there..? After your attack, I mean. Did he visit you in the hospital?"

"Only the first day," Kurt replied, shaking his head sadly. "He said he couldn't get off of work. But I was asleep most of the time, anyway."

"I would have been there," Blaine told him. "I would've been there every minute."

"I'm glad that there are people like you… People who care about others…" Kurt's voice grew quieter by the minute and he was starting to drift off to sleep. He wasn't afraid to sleep now that Blaine had promised to stay with him.

"It's my job," Blaine smiled.

"But you'd do it, anyway. Because you're a good person. Don't ever lose that."

"I won't," he promised quietly, kissing the top of Kurt's flattened hair. "Go to sleep, Kurt. I promise I won't leave."

"Never leave…" Kurt whispered before falling asleep.

Blaine smiled to himself as he watched Kurt fall asleep. He watched how his eyes moved every now and then beneath his eye lids, like he was dreaming of something vivid. He watched as he let out little breaths from his nose before sucking the air back in through his mouth. It was a bit backwards, but Blaine found it adorable. It was one thing that was so uniquely Kurt that he'd never seen before. He was trained to study human behavior as a part of his job, so he noticed each little movement of Kurt's. He was about to press a light kiss to Kurt's lips when the sleeping man suddenly clung tighter to his t-shirt. He buried his face in Blaine's shoulder, whimpering, his face contorted in pain. "Kurt?"

"N-No…" he mumbled, still asleep. "How do you know my name? Don't hurt me…" Kurt's breathing sped up and he let out a choked cry before his eyes popped open. "Blaine..?" he whispered. Blaine nodded and held him closer, his eyes filled with concern.

"What's wrong, Kurt? Shh… I'm here. What'd you dream about?"

"H-He said he'd f-follow me… Said that I couldn't run… couldn't get away… He'll find me, Blaine, I know it." Kurt's heart was pounding loudly in his ears and he couldn't form a coherent thought. All he knew was that he was scared; _terrified._ "Blaine, don't let him hurt me again," he whispered. He didn't think he'd survive if his attacker found him again. "Please… he's going to k-kill me… He said he would."

"I won't let him anywhere near you, Kurt," Blaine promised firmly but gently. "He won't ever hurt you again. I won't let that happen. I swear." Kurt had tears streaming down his cheeks and those beautiful cyan eyes were shining with fear when he looked up at Blaine. "I promise you'll be safe here with me. You'll always be safe with me."

Kurt nodded. "I trust you…"

"I'll never give you a reason not to." Blaine smiled sadly, kissing Kurt's forehead lightly. "You mean too much to me. You're too precious to me to ever let you slip away."

"How can I mean so much to you already?" Kurt whispered.

"That's the funny thing about love, Kurt," Blaine smiled. "You can't explain it; it just _is._ There's no logic to it. It usually doesn't make sense. You just see someone and you _know._"

"And you love me?"

"I think I can safely say yes," Blaine told him as Kurt settled back down with his head on Blaine's chest.

"I think I love you, too."

"Then that's all we need. You're gonna be okay; you're gonna be safe."

"I think I might actually believe you."

* * *

The next day, Blaine came into work with a headache. Today they'd be deciding how long to send the bank robber, Sebastian Smythe, to the slammer. Blaine _did not _want to deal with that. He would just have to hope that Sebastian didn't recognize him.

Maybe he'd get lucky.

Maybe they could just blindfold him or something and Blaine could hide in his office discretely. No one would be any the wiser. But, as Lieutenant, he had to be there the whole time. He blew out a breath of air as he held his head in his hands, elbows resting on his desk. He ran his hands through his hair before standing up and following Cooper to the room where Sebastian was in custody. He steeled himself, wishing upon a star that his tormentor wouldn't recognize his face after ten years.

"I can't believe this is taking so long," Cooper muttered as they walked down the stairs to Sebastian's temporary cell. "It shouldn't be this hard to persecute this guy."

"He's a professional. He knew how to not leave prints. And he knew where to stash the money." Blaine shook his head. It was possible they might not even sentence him for longer than a month, considering they had no solid evidence and a very good lawyer. His family came from a very wealthy line of private school preppies. "We know it's him. Don't worry."

"You could never prove it was him making your life miserable in high school by messing with the plumbing and bribing the teachers to 'accidentally lose your homework.'"

"But I wasn't the Lieutenant at Miami Metro Police Department when I was sixteen," Blaine said through gritted teeth as they reached the cell. "Now I'm the one with the advantage and he's the one who won't be able to say sorry."

"Let's just get this over with. We need you and Santana to do the questioning. Santana's running late so she'll be in there in a few minutes. Just get him to talk and he's out of our hair."

"Got it," Blaine nodded. He dusted off his suit and opened the door, stepping inside and taking a seat across from Sebastian. It all felt so terrifyingly surreal to be in the same room and even building as him again.

"I didn't do it," Sebastian said coolly, leaning back in his seat although his hands were cuffed to the table. His smile was replaced with a subtle smirk as he looked at Blaine. "While you've got me locked up, some guy a whole lot worse than me could be out there killing someone by now while you're interrogating an innocent citizen."

"Who's to say you're not lying?" Blaine questioned, staying surprisingly calm.

"I'm just the guy who likes a little excitement." Sebastian smiled. "I never stole anything. The money that I had in my bag is all in the trash bin by the front door of the bank. Every cent is there—I can prove it—and I would imagine Ms. Becca is counting it back into the register at this very moment."

"Cut the crap, Sebastian," Blaine snapped, but he immediately regretted it.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "How do you know my name?" His face lit up with recognition when he took a second look at Blaine's face. He was older but his features were almost identical to those of his teenage self. "Blaine Anderson. How'd we both end up back in Miami, huh?" Sebastian leaned forward, elbows on the table, an amused expression on his face. "I'm not lying, by the way. You can check. The money's right there outside the bank doors. I ran because that Latina is freaking scary. I technically did have the money, but it never left the bank," he said slowly, lowering his voice, smirking darkly at Blaine. Blaine gulped. "Now if you would kindly un-cuff me, seeing as I'm an innocent man."

Blaine gritted his teeth. "So why did you do it? If you had the money, why didn't you just keep it?" Sebastian smiled.

"Everybody needs a little thrill once in a while," he shrugged. "I'm not stupid enough to get caught and go to jail. But a cop chase is _fun_." Sebastian laughed lightly, that same old smirk still plastered to his face.

He knew he was right. They would obviously keep him in custody for a bit longer while they checked to see if the money was really there, but the story seemed reasonable considering that Blaine knew what kind of odd cleverness Sebastian was known for. He wasn't stupid enough to steal a couple hundred dollars only to get caught. "Get out of here."

"Gladly," Sebastian smiled coldly, standing after shedding his restraints. He left the room after Blaine opened the door, and he was escorted out of the police station after Blaine explained the situation to Cooper.

On his way out, Sebastian couldn't help but notice the pale-faced man standing outside Blaine's office with flowers in his hands. He was obviously waiting for Blaine. Sebastian definitely recognized him. He smiled coldly at Kurt as he passed by, and the now terrified man froze in place, dropping the flowers as he stared at the familiar man. He 'accidentally' knocked his shoulder into Kurt's rigid form, sending the boy backwards so he hit his back on the wall. "Sorry 'bout that," he said insincerely as he was taken through the doors to leave the police station.

"No…" Kurt choked out in a whisper, not believing his eyes. He turned to his left and ran right into Blaine, who smiled at him.

"Hey!" Blaine greeted. "I wasn't expecting you here today—Kurt, what's the matter?" he asked when he noticed Kurt's blank expression and the bouquet of flowers on the ground.

"He found me," he choked out, looking directly into Blaine's eyes, which lit up with realization.

"How… Where is he? Do you know?" Kurt nodded frantically, not paying attention to the watching eyes just outside the door. Cold, green eyes watched the way Blaine held Kurt close protectively, concern-filled eyes intently trained on Kurt's face. Sebastian smiled. _Perhaps I'll hit two birds with one stone._

"H-He just left… He's right outside," he spoke quickly, shaking in fear. "Blaine, he found me…" he cried into Blaine's shoulder, his heart pounding too fast.

"Shh… I'll protect you, love. I promise. He won't hurt you." The puzzle pieces slowly fell into place in Blaine's mind. He recalled a time when Sebastian had swore to follow Blaine to New York; promised him he'd never be left alone. And Kurt had moved to Miami from New York, where he was attacked by a man who was never sentenced to prison. Now Sebastian was back in Miami, seemingly by chance, which already made Blaine nervous. But Kurt's reaction to seeing him, and the fact that Kurt had told him that his attacker promised to find him no matter where he went—it all fit.

Sebastian Smythe was not only Blaine's high school tormentor, but also Kurt's attacker. "He's going to kill me," Kurt choked out, his voice high. "He said he would. He swore he'd find me and kill me and now he's found me."

"You're safe with me," Blaine assured him again. Though… now he wasn't so sure he'd be able to keep that promise. He'd just let a homophobic psychopath loose on the city.

* * *

Sebastian was free to go once they checked that the money was in fact where he'd told Blaine it would be. He never stole anything, so he couldn't be convicted, much to Blaine's dismay. He was a dangerous man, but they had no way of convicting him of the hate crime he'd committed against Kurt. Blaine knew they had no reasonable cause for keeping him in custody since his story checked out, but he couldn't help but feel it was his fault. His fault that Kurt was now terrified because the man who had beaten him within an inch of his life was now in the same city as him and he knew where to find him.

"Kurt.."

Kurt jumped, turning his head to look at Blaine where they sat on Blaine's living room couch. "Yeah..?"

"It's gonna be okay. I'll protect you from him."

"But I don't want you getting hurt either," he mumbled, bringing his knees to his chest. He sat with his back pressed against the arm of the couch.

"I won't," Blaine shook his head. "Santana and Cooper have my back, so I'm not in danger. I'm just worried about him coming after you again."

"I'm not a _doll." _Kurt frowned. "I can take care of myself," he said, not entirely convinced. He knew he couldn't, but he couldn't stand the thought of Blaine actually risking his own life to protect him. "You don't have to protect me."

"But I _want _to," Blaine pleaded desperately, sitting on the couch with his feet underneath him, facing Kurt. He put his hands on Kurt's knees. "Please don't shut me out. I know you're scared. But I can protect you. You don't have to be scared anymore. I promise."

"You can't know for sure." Kurt shook his head. "And I can't know that you'll be safe, either. I just can't let you risk so much just protecting me. It's not worth it."

"_You _are worth it, Kurt."

"I'm not!" Kurt stood up, grabbing his coat. It was getting late and, despite how hot it was on a summer day in Miami, the nights could potentially get cold. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Please let me drive you home, at least."

"I can walk home. I'll be fine."

"Kurt, wait—"

But Kurt slammed the door just as Blaine stood up to follow him.

"No…" Blaine groaned, running his hands through his hair. He saw Kurt out the window, already walking towards his own apartment, which was at least two miles away from Blaine's. Blaine scrambled to find his keys before he remembered he'd left them at work. They'd driven here in Kurt's car, but for some reason Kurt refused to drive home. Was he trying to get himself killed?

He grabbed his phone, dialing Kurt's number. "Pick up… Pick up, please…"

"_Hey, you've reached Kurt! Leave a message or call back later. Unless it's Rachel; you might as well just keep texting me until I respond since I know you will, anyway." _

Blaine frowned. Why wasn't Kurt answering his phone? Blaine looked out his window again, but he couldn't see Kurt anymore. Could he have gotten so far already, just walking?

Doubtful.

Blaine regretted not following him and not giving him any other option than to let him drive him home. He knew it wasn't safe for Kurt to be out alone at night with Sebastian in the area. Kurt knew it, too. He tried calling again, but there was no answer.

"Kurt," he spoke into Kurt's voicemail. "Please answer me. I don't even know if you're okay. I need to know you're okay. At least call when you get home. Please… I love you."

He left several more messages, becoming more anxious by the minute.

"You're freaking me out. Please answer. Why aren't you answering?"

"Kurt, you left your car here. You'll have to come back and get it. Please come back. You can stay here tonight." _Why didn't I offer that in the first place? _

"Please just call me back, Kurt. I need to know you're safe. I love you."

"Kurt! Just, please… I'm sorry, okay? Please answer the phone."

At least thirty minutes passed before Blaine gave up; only twenty six voicemail messages later.

He groaned in frustration, tossing his phone into the couch pillows and pacing back and forth in the living room of his apartment. Suddenly his phone rang, and he'd never picked up a call so fast. "Kurt! Oh, thank goodness… I was so worried—"

"Sorry, but Kurt can't come to the phone at the moment. Can I take a message?"

Blaine knew that voice.

He froze on the spot and dropped his phone. "No…"

* * *

**A/N: I'm evil. Cliffhanger! Sort of! I'm sure you all know what's going on. For those of you who figured it out from chapter 3, good job :) You're too smart ; )**

**Review :)**

**Peace off.**


	5. Bluff

Chapter 5: Bluff

Blaine stood frozen in place for what felt like hours but was only seconds before he picked up his phone and shakily held it to his ear. "Where is he?" he demanded into the phone. "What have you done to him?"

"Nothing yet," Sebastian chuckled. "That all depends on you, Lieutenant Anderson."

"I swear, if you lay _one _finger on him, I'll—"

"You'll what?" Sebastian laughed. "You can't do anything to me. At least, not before I kill your precious boyfriend." A pause. "Oh, look. He's waking up now."

"Don't _touch _him, Sebastian!" Blaine choked out, practically begging.

"Oh, I'll do much better than that," Sebastian promised. Blaine could hear loud footsteps on the other line, as if Sebastian's footsteps were echoing from the ground. Then he heard muffled voices as if Sebastian had stuffed his phone in his pocket and was now talking to Kurt.

Blaine listened intently, searching for any signs that Kurt was still alive.

_"No… please. Don't hurt me—stop!" _He heard Kurt's pleading voice and he wished he wasn't so useless in protecting his boyfriend, especially not now. He heard Kurt scream, but it was cut off suddenly and he could only hear muffled and strangled breaths coming from the terrified boy.

Then he heard Sebastian's voice. "_Shut _up!" he hissed. _"Your awful voice is giving me a headache! It's not like anyone is going to hear you, anyway."_

Blaine could hear Kurt crying, and he heart him yelp in pain, leaving Blaine to wonder what Sebastian had done to him. He couldn't bear hearing Kurt's cries, but he had to know for as long as he could that Kurt was _alive. _

That was enough.

For now.

He suddenly heard Sebastian's voice, much louder now, in his ear again. "I told you you'd never be able to run away forever. And neither can your precious Kurt."

The line went dead, but not before Blaine heard a series of muffled screams coming from Kurt. Blaine didn't even want to imagine what Sebastian was doing to him.

"No… No… _No!" _He closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. Desperate, he dialed his brother's number, pacing the floor.

"Hello—"

"Cooper!" Blaine choked out. "I need your help. Someone… _Sebastian _has Kurt. He… he's going to hurt him. I don't know where he is. Help me, please," he begged. He heard Cooper hum in acknowledgment and rustle through papers on his messy desk. "Cooper… what—"

"Meet me at the station in ten minutes."

"I don't have my keys."

"Then I'll come pick you up," Cooper shook his head. "We're going to find him, I promise."

Blaine nodded shakily before hanging up. He put his coat on and went outside to wait for Cooper, who showed up after about ten minutes. Ten minutes to long, in Blaine's opinion. "How do we find where they are?" he asked his older brother once they were both in the car.

"We don't," Cooper sighed. "We just have to work with what we've got—"

"We have nothing!"

"Then we've got to _find _something."

"I can't lose him, Coop."

"I know. We'll get him back, okay? I swear."

* * *

"Why don't we play a game? It's called: _I break every bone in your body and you cry into the phone for Blaine to hear." _Kurt whimpered, shaking his head. Sebastian had already broken his wrist when he'd tried to escape from his handcuffs which bound his hands to a metal beam. And he'd nearly given him a concussion banging his head against said beam which he had his back pressed uncomfortably against.

"P-Please… Don't do this… I didn't do anything to you…"

"I know you didn't." Sebastian smiled coldly. "Blaine never did, either. That didn't stop me from making his life Hell in high school." Sebastian crouched down beside Kurt, whispering in his ear. "And it's not going to stop me from killing you if you don't behave."

Kurt spat in his eye, eyes still filled with fear even as he glared daggers at the smirking boy.

"Cute." He smiled shortly.

"Blaine will find me," he muttered.

"Oh, I count on it," Sebastian said nonchalantly. "I count on him getting so frustrated that the Captain can't find me. Then he'll come looking for you on his own. And when he does, well…" he paused, smiling. "He'll be an easy target and you'll be the perfect audience."

"Don't touch him!" Kurt cried, wincing when his untreated broken wrist banged against the handcuff.

"Of course. I'll be saving that for another day. Now… it's your turn." Kurt choked out a pained scream when he felt a blade cutting into the skin of his exposed hip bone. He felt Sebastian continue to cut, seemingly carving words into his skin, until he felt his pants wet with blood and his eyes heavy with close-unconsciousness.

He fell asleep.

* * *

Blaine's mind was racing. He had _no _idea where Kurt was. He had no way, currently, of finding him. His brother was no help, given that he couldn't call in witnesses at a quarter to midnight. They'd been at the station, helpless, for over an hour and with nothing to show for it.

"Blaine, come over here," the older Anderson told him. Blaine stood quickly from his chair in the corner of his brother's office, moving to see Cooper's computer. "It says here he was tried for assault about two years ago. He was never convicted."

"I know that!" Blaine cried in desperation, throwing his hands in the air and turning away. "He attacked _Kurt!" _

"Why wasn't he sentenced?"

"They didn't find any _evidence, _apparently," Blaine snapped through gritted teeth, pacing the room. "And he had good lawyers. And apparently the jury couldn't find _hate crimes _as reasonable cause to persecute. It's all bullsh—"

"Blaine," Cooper cut him off firmly. "I know it sucks. There's no use getting worked up about it."

"No _use?" _Blaine stared at him in shocked anger. "Cooper, he almost _killed _Kurt and he walked away a free man. And you say there's no _use?" _

_"_Blaine, calm down," Cooper told him. "You know that's not what I meant. That just isn't our concern at the moment. _Finding Kurt _is our concern."

"Right. Like I don't know that. Some help you are," Blaine muttered angrily before storming out of the office and returning to his own office. He had to think in quiet. Cooper may have been the Captain, but that was only because he was the oldest of the Anderson brothers—not because he was the best cop. That title would go to either Blaine or Santana.

Santana…

Santana!

He needed Santana's help. She may have the worst people skills Blaine had ever seen, but she knew how to do her job. She was a better cop that Cooper would ever be.

He quickly dialed Santana's cell number, and she picked up after three long rings. "Hey, little brother. What's going on? I'm in the middle of something," she said, sounding annoyed. Blaine could hear voices in the background and one that was right beside the phone. He shuddered. She was with a girl. Blaine hoped he wasn't actually interrupting anything… _important. _

"Kurt's missing," he told Santana. "Sebastian has him, and I need you to help me find him."

"Can it wait till morning? I'm kind of about to get—"

"It _can't _wait until tomorrow. He might be dead by tomorrow."

Santana stopped midsentence. "I'll be at the station in twenty minutes. Hang in there."

The line went dead and Blaine sunk into his leather chair, smiling sadly at the bouquet of flowers Kurt had brought to him earlier. It was sitting at the corner of his desk, and a few petals were already wilting.

_Funny, _he thought. _Well, I wouldn't say funny. Those flowers just might represent the hour glass of Kurt's final hours if I don't find him soon. _ The thought scared him to death.

Just thinking about it made his breath catch in his throat and he had to take a swig of water before he could breathe properly again. While waiting for Santana, which seemed like several hours with each second that ticked by, he thought of a song. It'd been a long time since he'd sung anything that actually _meant something. _

_It's a little bit funny…_

_This feeling inside. _

_I'm not one of those who can…_

_Easily hide. _

_I don't have much money…_

_But boy, if I did…_

_I'd buy a big house where…_

_We both could live._

All he wanted right now was for Kurt to be safe in his arms like he was just hours ago. This all felt like a dream.

But it was all too real.

_And you can tell everybody…_

_That this is your song._

_It may be quite simple but…_

_Now that it's done…_

_I hope you don't mind, I hope you mind…_

_That I put down in words…_

_How wonderful life is…_

_Now you're in the world._

Blaine ran his hands through his hair as he hid his face in them, close to tears. He couldn't have imagined when he'd first met Kurt just days before that he'd mean so much to him so soon. But now all he cared about was finding Kurt and making sure he was safe.

"We're going to find him." Blaine looked up to see Santana standing there with a sad smile, a black t-shirt, and old blue jeans.

"Let's just go. I don't know how much time we have," Blaine choked out before standing and walking past his almost-sister to his car, which he was glad he'd left at the station. Santana followed him silently.

When they got in the car, she held out her hand and said, "Give me your phone. You mentioned he called you, right?" Blaine nodded, knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel anxiously. He pulled out his phone and handed it over to Santana. "Thank you," she murmured as she began typing into the phone.

**TO Kurt—12:30 a.m.:**

**Alright, Smythe. I get how you want to play. I've seen stuff like this before. You'll kill him once we come anywhere near; or something like that. But you have ****_no_**** idea who you're dealing with. **

**FROM Kurt—12:34 a.m.:**

**So he's sending his big sis to do the dirty work. Sweet. Here's a little hint: you're wrong. You know why? Because you ****_won't _****come anywhere near him, so there's no reason for me to do any of that. Have fun trying to find us. **

**TO Kurt—12:35 a.m.:**

**Leave the bluffing to the professionals, psycho. We're going to find you and you're going to prison for a very long time. **

No answer came after that for a while, and Blaine wasn't paying attention since he was focusing on driving. They were going back to his apartment to search Kurt's car.

Then… a voice message popped up on the screen and Santana opened it, hesitantly pressing 'listen.'

_"You have no way of finding him and he'd be dead by the time you did, anyway. He's cutting it pretty close already." Muffled screams and a whimper that sounded like Kurt; a thud that sounded like metal colliding with metal; silence save Sebastian's cruel laughter before the phone clicked and there was nothing. _

"Santana!" Blaine cried. "Don't make him angry… He already said he'd kill Kurt. I don't know what you said but don't provoke him any further…" Blaine trailed off, fighting tears—barely. They reached his apartment parking lot and parked beside Kurt's car. Blaine got out of the car and shone his flashlight through the slightly cracked driver side window. He looked closer and noticed Kurt's keys were in the door. He must have grabbed them at the last second before leaving the apartment. If he'd been planning to drive at first… then what changed his mind?

* * *

"Kurt, wait—"

The door slammed and Kurt walked quickly down the stairs of Blaine's apartment building, not looking back and not looking up. His eyes were glued to the ground as he made his way to his car. He wasn't actually going to walk no matter how many times he said he was going to.

He fumbled with the keys and dropped them from his shaking fingers. He bent down the grab them, cursing under his breath, and when he stood up straight he froze. Sebastian stood on the opposite side of his car, out of Blaine's view but perfectly in Kurt's sight. Kurt's body went rigid and his intake of breath was so sudden that he wasn't sure he could breathe again. He tried to breathe out but was too terrified and shocked.

"Keep walking," Sebastian ordered quietly, keeping Kurt at gunpoint, as if that was even necessary to terrify Kurt at this point. Kurt couldn't move. "I said _move_!" Kurt's hands, which had just managed to jam the keys into the car door before he'd seen Sebastian, wrapped around his middle and he backed away from the car. "And act normal. If he comes after you, you both die." Kurt turned around and walked quickly away from the parking lot, subtly towards his own apartment. He was all too aware of Sebastian's gun still pointed at the back of his head, and he had to force himself not to run.

He thought of Blaine. He thought of how amazing and kind and brave Blaine was, saving lives on a daily basis. And what did Kurt do? He painted for a living. He was nothing, or so he felt. But he could still save Blaine. He could surrender to Sebastian so Blaine wouldn't be harmed as collateral damage. Only one life would be taken; Kurt's. He could handle that, he thought, if it meant Blaine would be safe and live a happy life.

With that in mind, he turned towards a small area between two dark buildings. No light to show his face. He stood with his back against a wall, eyes closed. After about thirty seconds, he went numb. It started in his neck and coursed through his body. The last thing he saw, before he fell to the ground unconscious, was Sebastian standing above him with what looked like some kind of needle.

When he woke up again, he had no idea where he was. He couldn't move his arms from behind his back, and his back was pressed uncomfortably against a rusty metal beam. He looked around, still groggy from what must have been some sort of tranquilizer that Sebastian had used to knock him out cold. He saw nothing but a few flickering lights on the ceiling high above his head. He felt a dull ache in the back of his head and decided to close his eyes for a minute of rest…

"Wake up, pretty boy," Sebastian's voice hissed from behind him, scaring him so badly that his eyes snapped open and he immediately pulled his outstretched legs to his chest. His whole body trembled as he looked up at Sebastian, who walked around until he was in full view. "I guess I didn't hit you hard enough the last time if you're still able to go out in public and let people see your girlish face. I thought I'd messed it up pretty badly. Hard to believe you're still so stupid, walking around at night all on your own."

Kurt winced when Sebastian took a step forward, the standing boy chuckling darkly. "So terrified. This ought to be fun. Shall we begin?" Kurt stayed silent, barely meeting his attacker's eyes. He'd always thought he would never have to see that terrifying face again. "Why don't we start with your wrists?" Sebastian smiled and Kurt shut his eyes tight, not wanting to know what Sebastian would do to him.

The kidnapper knelt down behind Kurt, who was sitting on the cold and hard ground, stiff as a board. He pulled out a pocket knife and, surprising and stunning Kurt, swung it around until it was pressed firmly to Kurt's pale neck. Kurt froze, not daring to move. "I'm guessing you already know not to cross me, but here's a little extra incentive," he whispered harshly. "Just in case you need a memory refresher." The blade broke the skin just barely enough to draw a few drops of blood, and Kurt froze up even more. Sebastian then moved the knife to Kurt's handcuffed wrists, running the dull edge of the blade from Kurt's wrist to his shoulder. Kurt shuddered, eyes still shut tight. He didn't dare speak, either.

Suddenly, the knife was stabbed slowly and steadily into his shoulder, causing Kurt to cry out sharply in pain. Each millimeter that the knife was pushed further into his shoulder was agonizing. That was when he realized: Sebastian wasn't going to kill him—not yet, at least. He was going to _torture _him until he cracked. He was just biding his time.

Perhaps Kurt hadn't saved Blaine at all.

He'd only made everything worse.

* * *

**A/N: Ehhhhh, so I felt like ending this here since I'm running low on inspiration—sort of. I've got ideas but I don't want them in this chapter. They'll show up, but not quite yet. Also I wanted to get this posted since the last chapter ended on a terrible cliffhanger. Then again… this is also a bit of a cliffhanger. Sorry! **

**Review. Please. :)**

**Peace off. **


	6. Not Another Innocent

Chapter 6: Not Another Innocent

After the phone call with Blaine and the voice message sent to Santana, Sebastian was annoyed. Kurt was unconscious and wasn't moving at all, so he didn't have a headache anymore. But he had been so pissed off that he'd smashed Kurt's cell phone on the concrete ground of the empty building they were in. At least now they couldn't track him as easily. However, he knew they must have thought to start checking for the phone signal, so he had to move quickly or they would find him.

But he was smart. He knew what he was doing and he wasn't going to let anything happen that he didn't authorize himself. This would happen on his terms or there would be blood.

He heard a noise behind him and stopped in his slow pacing to look over at Kurt, who was starting to wake up. He frowned. He wasn't in the mood. He noticed the wound in Kurt's shoulder was starting to bleed more and he stalked over to him, kneeling down before roughly adjusting the bandage and tightening it. He didn't want his captive to die quite yet. Or maybe he would never actually kill him. He hadn't made up his mind quite yet.

Besides, bleeding to death was such a boring way to go.

Sebastian had something more in mind.

Kurt woke up with a sudden hiss of pain when Sebastian adjusted the bandage. "W-Why do you bother stopping the bleeding..?" he asked, only half-conscious and so pale he could pass out at any second.

"Because I'm not letting you die until I decide it's time," Sebastian answered coldly, flatly. Kurt swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes tight and leaning his head back against the metal beam as Sebastian stood up and kicked him carelessly in the side. Kurt winced, forcing himself not to cry. He kept his eyes shut as he listened to Sebastian talk to himself. "We have to move fast," he muttered. "They're probably on our trail already. Why'd I have to make that stupid phone call?" He cursed, kicking over a stool that almost hit Kurt where he was sitting on the ground. "Get up!" he demanded suddenly. "Get up and walk to the car or you won't live to see morning." It was about 2:00 a.m. and it was still pitch dark outside.

Kurt was left alone in the dark when Sebastian left his sight after removing his handcuffs roughly. Kurt, shaking, carefully tried to stand up. He almost fell over, feeling faint, several times as he made his way across the hard floor and out the tall door. He wondered where Sebastian was… and a thought crossed his mind. He couldn't see Sebastian anywhere; not in the abandoned house in the woods where they'd just been, and not in the car just in front of him.

He figured it was worth a shot.

He ran. He still felt too weak and he was still suffering from blood loss, but he had to try. He ran as fast as he could, dodging trees and branches and roots until he suddenly tripped—

—and fell right at Sebastian's feet. He backed away quickly, his ankle throbbing. He looked up at the furious man as Sebastian stepped forward and bent over to grab Kurt's shirt and pull him up. He was pushed roughly against a tree and he felt Sebastian's hand around his neck, lifting him higher until his feet weren't touching the ground. "No," Kurt choked out, grasping desperately at Sebastian's hand and feebly trying to escape. "P-_Please _don't…" The hand tightened and Kurt's head felt fuzzy. He couldn't breathe and he felt himself slipping further away from consciousness.

"I told you to go to the car," Sebastian said lowly before slamming Kurt's head on the tree and effectively knocking him out. Kurt's body fell limp as Sebastian dragged him to the car and laid him in the trunk. He climbed in the car and started the car, smiling ever so slightly.

* * *

"His keys are still in the car door…" Blaine murmured, swallowing thickly. He looked at Santana, who was typing something into her phone. "What are you doing?"

"I'm texting Coop and he's gonna track Kurt's cell phone," she answered. "That idiot had the nerve to call your phone, and now he's gonna lead us right to him."

"Santana, you're a genius," he smiled faintly. _Why didn't I think of that? _

"I know I am," she shrugged. "That's why you love me, little bro."

"Santana, I have never loved you more." They both went quiet for a while as Santana put her phone away. "I'm going to keep looking for him while we wait for Coop to track the phone. I can't waste any more time when Kurt could be dying." He gave Santana a grave expression and she just nodded.

"I'm going with you."

"No—"

"I'm going with you," she repeated more firmly, leaving no room for argument. Blaine just sighed but reluctantly agreed. They both got back in Blaine's car and Santana started the car as buckled up in the passenger's seat. "We're going to get Kurt back, I promise."

"I know… I just hope we aren't too late…" Blaine shook his head and looked at his feet, frowning in confusion when he saw a pad of sticky notes on the floor. He picked them up and recognized Kurt's neat handwriting immediately.

"What's that?"

"Kurt's notebook or something," Blaine answered. He examined it and found a few phone numbers, one labeled 'dad's new number.' That one was circled. He swallowed, realizing he would have to call and tell Mr. Hummel that his son was missing. That would not be a pleasant phone call.

He wondered if he should wait until morning before calling, but decided that if he had a kid, he'd want to know immediately if they were in danger. He hoped Kurt's father felt the same way about his son. But he had no way of knowing what kind of relationship they had.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the number written. He held it to his ear and heard five rings before a gruff voice answered his call. "'ello..?" the voice asked sleepily.

"Mr. Hummel?" Blaine questioned.

"Yeah… Who is this?"

"This is Lieutenant Anderson from Miami Metro Police Department," Blaine answered. He heard shifting around on the other end and assumed Mr. Hummel had just sat up from wherever he'd been sleeping previously.

"Is everything okay? Is Kurt okay?"

Blaine gulped and closed his eyes before answering. "Mr. Hummel, your son has gone missing and we suspect he's been kidnapped. Does the name Sebastian Smythe mean anything to you?"

"That—that _monster _has my son?" Mr. Hummel asked, sounding half angry and half scared to death. "Please tell me you're at least looking for him."

"Of course," Blaine assured him immediately. "We're doing everything we can. I care about Kurt very much and I will do everything in my power to bring him back safely."

"How do you know my son?" Mr. Hummel inquired, sounding close to tears as far as Blaine could tell.

"I'm… well, sort of his boyfriend," Blaine rubbed the nape of his neck. "But that's not important right now. Is there any way you can come to Florida?"

"I'll catch the first flight in the morning."

"Thank you, Mr. Hummel. We'll get back to you if there are any updates."

"Thanks, Lieutenant," the man choked out. "And… call me Burt, kid."

"O-Okay… Goodbye, Burt." Blaine nodded before hanging up and stowing his phone away in his pocket.

"That was Kurt's dad?" Santana asked quietly.

"Yeah… He'll be in Miami in the morning. We need to find Kurt; and fast. Let's go."

Santana nodded and kept driving aimlessly, waiting for the call from Cooper.

* * *

Kurt awoke with a pounding headache and a throbbing ankle. He was convinced it was sprained from when he'd tripped on a tree root. He wasn't sure when his hands had been bound again after he'd tried to run—he couldn't remember—but it was killing his broken wrist. This time it was ropes rather than handcuffs.

He also noted that he was gagged, barely able to breathe, and his feet were bound as well. However, the bindings that restrained his legs were attached to a weight in the trunk and he couldn't move towards the front of the trunk even if he tried. He was in the back, blankets and camping chairs blocking him from view even if someone were to open the trunk of the SUV. Sebastian, it seemed, had thought of everything as far as hiding Kurt.

He couldn't move to free himself. He couldn't be seen. He couldn't make a sound to make his presence known to any others who may be close by. He had no way of letting someone know to rescue him.

He heard voices outside the car and he held his breath. Even if he could make a single sound with the rag that was gagging him, he was too terrified to do so. The last time he'd been anything but cooperative, Sebastian had caught him and hurt him badly.

Besides, he wasn't sure his vocal chords really worked after how roughly Sebastian had choked him.

The voices outside were barely audible with all the things separating them from Kurt, but he could make out bits and pieces.

_"…Yes, officer, I'm sober… I have nothing in my car but a few suitcases… I'm leaving state for vacation…"_

_"…Can I see what's inside your trunk?"_

_"…Of course…"_

He heard the sound of keys unlocking the trunk and he shut his eyes. He wanted so badly to scream, to somehow let the person with Sebastian know that he was in there, but he was too scared. He was scared of what Sebastian would do to him. But he was even more scared of what Sebastian would do to the officer.

So he stayed quiet. He couldn't stand to be the cause of Sebastian taking an innocent life.

He felt the blankets move as the officer rummaged around in the trunk to find something; anything; some_one. _He held his breath and kept his eyes shut tight, not moving a muscle. He heard the officer sigh and pull back. "Alright. You're free to go, Mr. Smythe. Sorry to have wasted your time."

"It's no trouble, officer." Kurt could just see Sebastian's faux friendly smile now. "Have a good night." He heard the trunk slam shut purposefully and he almost screamed in fright. He let out a few quiet whimpers when he knew the officer and Sebastian were out of earshot.

He didn't think he'd ever been so scared in his entire life. The first time Sebastian had found him, it was a surprise, but he still knew what was going to happen. He knew what Sebastian and his ally had in mind, so he was at least prepared and he fought back as best he could. And it was only his life at stake. No one else was in danger if everything didn't fit Sebastian's plans.

This time was different. He was not only scared for himself, but for Blaine and everyone else who happened to get involved with the seemingly harmless Sebastian Smythe. Also, he had no idea what was going to happen. He didn't know if Sebastian was going to kill him or kill Blaine or…

He had no idea.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when the car suddenly started and his head flew back and hit something hard. He winced and his vision went blurry before it went black.

He fell unconscious.

* * *

"According to what it says here, the phone last had a signal at this address." A text alert came in through Blaine's phone while he listened to Cooper telling him what he could to help find Kurt.

"Thanks, Coop," Blaine smiled weakly.

"No problem, Blainers. Just bring him back safely. I know you can do it." The line went dead and Blaine exhaled shakily before opening his newest text message. He read the address and bit his lip.

"He took him into the woods. Are there even any good places to hide in there? Like a house or something?"

Santana shrugged as she continued driving. "I wouldn't know. But let's go see if they're still there. If Smythe is as smart as you say he is, he must have known we could track the phone signal. He might already be gone if we don't move fast."

"Let's just hope I'm overestimating his intelligence," Blaine grumbled nervously. He ran his hand through his short black curls, blowing out a breath of air. "I just really can't stand the thought of him hurting Kurt again like he did before…"

"Wait… Hold up," Santana said, glancing at him before her eyes returned to the road. "You mean this has happened before?"

"When Kurt used to live in New York, he was attacked. Sebastian beat him within an inch of his life and was never convicted. He's been out there all this time, probably searching for Kurt, and now he's found him."

"Oh…" Santana whispered, frowning. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and returned her attention to driving. "We'll be there in about twenty minutes, I think. Tell me the address again?" Blaine told her the address. "Yep, it should be just down that road."

"Just hurry…"

* * *

"They're not here…" Blaine muttered in disbelief as he searched the small, one-room cabin that seemed to have been recently vacated. "We came too late. They're gone." He shook his head, pressing his palms to his eyes. "This is my entire fault. It's my entire fault that he's even out there right now… And it's my entire fault that Kurt left my apartment alone last night. Now it's almost seven in the morning and we're no closer to finding them. He's going to kill Kurt and it's going to be my fault—!"

"Blaine, stop," Santana cut him off firmly, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Come on. We're still going to find him. We're going to find Kurt and he's going to be safe with you before you know it and Sebastian will be behind bars. This is just a minor setback."

"How are we going to find him?" Blaine asked, looking tired and very put out by it all.

"By doing our job," she smiled faintly. "We're the best of the best, remember?"

"We have to be better if we're going to save Kurt…" he mumbled before letting himself be pulled into a bear hug and allowing himself to finally let his tears of fear and exhaustion stream down his cheeks.

"We will," Santana promised.

* * *

Kurt winced as he was awoken by a sudden bright light in his eyes. He forced his eyes open and immediately tensed up when he remembered exactly where he was and why his whole body ached. His hip stung, and he didn't even dare look at it to clean the wound for fear of seeing what Sebastian had cut into his skin. His wrist and ankle both throbbed and jolted with sharp pain every time he moved them. His shoulder stung and pinched with the tight bandage every time he moved at all. He almost groaned from the overwhelming pain of it all. But he was even too weak to do that.

The blood loss was affecting him more than he'd like to admit.

He realized he had his eyes closed still when he was dragged carelessly to the edge of the trunk. He wasn't sure where they were but he figured it was isolated and deserted if Sebastian was uncovering him.

He didn't bother moving even when Sebastian held a knife—larger than the pocket knife he had before, Kurt noticed—to his throat. He slowly opened his eyes to see Sebastian sitting on the back of the car beside where Kurt lay, smiling that same cold smile. "Morning, sunshine," he said as the cold knife was pressed more firmly against his throat. He tried not to swallow. "Don't you know it's rude not to answer when someone speaks to you?"

Kurt slowly let a breath out, his eyes fluttering closed before opening again. "You b-_basta_r—"

"Ah, ah, ah," Sebastian chuckled darkly. "That's not nice, is it? Perhaps you do need a few lessons on manners. Here, I'll teach you." He dropped his smile as he ran the tip of the blade lightly over Kurt's jaw line, drawing a line of blood as the skin broke beneath the cold metal. "The knife always goes on the _left_." As he said this, he slammed the knife down hard in the floor of the trunk, just to the left of Kurt's head. Kurt inhaled sharply as the knife nearly killed him, going tense throughout his entire body.

Sebastian pulled the knife out from where it was impaled, slowly running the blunt edge around the frame of Kurt's face; his hairline, his jaw line, his cheeks. Kurt's heart thudded rapidly in his chest as the cold metal scraped against his skin. All it would take was a flick of his knife or the turn of Kurt's head and he'd most likely be dead in an instant.

Kurt shut his eyes again, not moving at all as Sebastian turned the knife over and repeated the same pattern but with the sharp edge. "No… No, please—"

"Shut up, you worthless daddy's boy," Sebastian hissed angrily. Kurt whimpered quietly as he shut his mouth again, not daring to talk at all. "I have to say this is quite fun," Sebastian hummed. "Perhaps it's just me, though. Are you enjoying our time together?" he smiled sweetly, daring Kurt to hate him.

"M-Maybe if there wasn't a k-knife at my t-throat…" he gulped, wincing when the knife's edge cut the skin just barely.

"I never promised comfort and good service, now did I?" Sebastian smiled, amused. Sebastian moved the knife from Kurt's forehead to his collarbone. "Lieutenant Anderson won't think so much of you once I've made you look like one of those mutilated bodies you see on C.S.I. shows. He doesn't love you," Sebastian scoffed, glancing behind him at the empty truck stop alongside the equally empty interstate.

"You're lying!" Kurt cried, the cry turning to one of pain when Sebastian grabbed him by the hair and held him up. His neck hurt badly at the angle, but at least the knife was no longer touching his skin.

"You're lying to yourself. Who's to say that's any better?" Sebastian questioned smoothly as he held Kurt up. "Hmm… I'm guessing you rely on your _perfect _hair to attract attention. Well, you can say goodbye to that." He used the knife and began chopping off Kurt's hair messily. He butchered Kurt's once perfectly coiffed hair, leaving bald spots and longer pieces of hair where they didn't belong. He nicked Kurt's tender scalp sever times, not bothering to clean up the blood from Kurt's head.

He didn't care that Kurt was sobbing, or that he was leaving traces of blood in his trunk. He would dump the car later, anyway. He wouldn't need it out on the ocean.

Switching the larger knife out for his pocket knife, Sebastian examined Kurt's only barely cut up face and shook his head. That wouldn't do. "This may hurt… just a little," he smiled devilishly as he pressed the knife to Kurt's porcelain skin and pressed in hard, ignoring Kurt's cries of pain. He did the same to several areas along Kurt's cheeks and across his jaw. He continued until he was satisfied to notice the change in Kurt's features. They were suddenly less lively, with less movement.

He'd hit a nerve.

"I know it hurts now," Sebastian whispered harshly as he leaned down close to his ear. "But I think I just did you a favor. You and I both know your smile is hideous. Now your smile won't work."

He was right. Kurt couldn't move the left side of his face. He couldn't even feel any pain there anymore.

He continued crying even as Sebastian pushed him back into the back of the trunk and hid him with blankets and other miscellaneous items in the small area. When Kurt was completely concealed, Sebastian slammed the trunk closed, blocking out the sound of Kurt's cries, and returned to his seat in the front of the car. He took a nap.

Kurt couldn't help himself now as the sobs escaped him. He thought about Blaine and _what if he really won't love me anymore? _He couldn't stand the thought of Sebastian being right about this. But he knew one thing for sure: he was hideous. He felt hideous and unloved and helpless and hopeless. He felt like he had nothing left to do. He couldn't save Blaine, if that was even what Sebastian was still going after. He couldn't save himself, no matter how many times he told himself that he could take the beating a second time. He had no way out.

And he was scared. Just scared.

* * *

**A/N: Here it is. I know this was a scary chapter, but a lot of the next chapters will be like that. I's sowwy! **

**These chapters will be coming along a lot faster now that I'm out of school for the summer. Whenever I have an idea or when I feel like I have time to sit down and write, I will and I'll spout out a chapter, whether it's from this story or another one of mine. (It will probably be from this story because I wanna get all my ideas out before I forget them).**

**Anyway, thanks for reading. Review please :) **

**Peace off.**


	7. There's A Fire Starting In My Heart

**Chapter 7: There's A Fire Starting In My Heart**

**A/N: I truly apologize for the previous chapter… I know it was a bit much. And… Sebastian is obviously not in his right mind. He's completely insane and, just like most psychopaths, he actually has no beef with his victim. He's just insane. **

**Would it help if I promise Kurt isn't going to die? I know I write sad and violent stuff sometimes, but I can't stand writing character deaths. So I won't do it. I promise. **

**P.s. Never feel bad if you have to stop reading because it's too much. I realize it was pretty graphic and Sebastian is a complete psycho. I write scary things, but I'm not scary. You don't have to worry about upsetting me. I understand. (Thank you, anon reviewer, for being so polite about it, though. Some aren't so kind)**

**Anyway, on to the story. **

* * *

They drove for what felt like days to Kurt, and he fell in and out of sleep, unable to keep the nightmares away. Sebastian didn't check on him anymore after the stop at the truck stop except to bring him a bit of food. He obviously had no intention of killing him—not yet, at least—if he was bringing his victim food and water.

Kurt stayed curled up behind the wall of blankets in the trunk, crying silently after having just woken up from a nightmare. It was disorienting to come out of a dream and be alive once again. It was also overwhelming because it felt so _real. _

They hit a bump in the road and Kurt's head hit the roof of the trunk, making him wince before wiping away his tears. _I'm not going to cry. He doesn't deserve to see my tears. _He breathed out shakily and closed his eyes, not falling asleep but unable to keep his tired eyes open much longer. He refused to fall asleep, though, for fear of more nightmares. He didn't want to face them.

He heard a noise outside the car and tensed up, wondering what was going on. The car had stopped and he heard Sebastian get out of the car, walking towards the trunk. Kurt closed his eyes tighter, bracing himself. The trunk opened and the blankets were moved but Kurt didn't open his eyes. He wondered what Sebastian would do if he kept pretending to be sleeping.

"Aren't you supposed to be a good actor?" Sebastian almost laughed. "Get up and get out of the car or I'll drag you out myself." Sebastian removed his bindings so he could climb out of the car.

Kurt sucked in a breath before opening his eyes to see Sebastian had moved to the side, standing against the door of the car. Kurt carefully climbed out of the car; slowly because he couldn't do much with his wrist or ankle. "W-Where are we?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Sebastian said before tying a blindfold tightly around Kurt's head, and Kurt saw nothing but darkness and almost fell over. Sebastian, being much taller and much stronger, grabbed him by the forearm and forced him to walk forward. Kurt bit his cheeks to keep from crying out when he was forced to walk on his sprained ankle. He only let a few tears fall as he followed Sebastian with no clue about where they were going.

He suddenly felt the ground was much less stable than it should be, and he knew he shouldn't feel like he was on water. Was he losing it? Was he sick? He didn't feel sick. Then Sebastian walked him onto what seemed to be a boat but Kurt couldn't see it to be sure. He felt himself being shoved in a small compartment that could have been below the front deck. He couldn't hear Sebastian anymore so he figured he must have closed and locked a door of some sort. Kurt let out a shaky breath before moving to take off his blindfold and wincing at the pain in his wrist.

When he had successfully removed the blindfold, he looked around and realized he was right about being on a boat. It was fairly small, like a jet boat, with a cover over the top to block the sun.

For the first time, Kurt noticed it was light out now. Judging by the light coming in from the small sun roof above him, he guessed it was around nine in the morning. He looked around and all he saw were a few life jackets, a torn up book, and an oar. He sat up, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his back against a small bench that bordered the small room. He sat on the floor, not bothering to move because he knew it'd hurt his entire body to do so. So he stayed put, listening to the faint hum of the boat's engine. He hadn't noticed that Sebastian must have started the boat, but now they were moving and Kurt still had no idea where they were.

He had nothing to do but wait now.

* * *

"It's been three hours. Why are we still just driving around? Do you actually have any idea where they might be?" Blaine shook his head in answer to Santana's questions.

"Maybe. I had Cooper do a background check and see if the guy has made his mark here in Miami yet. He's purchased a car and a boat, which is supposedly docked at Bay Harbor. I don't know if he'd actually go for the boat, but it's worth checking. Let's just go." Blaine continued driving too fast down the mostly empty street, anxious.

"If you say so," Santana said nervously. "What if he isn't there?"

"Then we keep looking," Blaine said desperately.

"Alright," she agreed, sighing. "Is Mr. Hummel in Florida yet?"

"He should be landing now and I sent Cooper to pick him up at the airport." Blaine didn't say anything else after that, just focusing on the road. After about two hours, they stopped at a mostly empty boat harbor. There were only a few boats there, but there was no sign of Sebastian or Kurt anywhere.

"Blaine, look," Santana called him over to an empty docking area. Blaine approached her but saw nothing.

"What is it?"

"Look down, dummy," she pointed at the ground. "Blood. I bet you that it's Kurt's. And it looks like they decided to go for a boat ride." Blaine swallowed thickly, looking at the blood for only a second before turning back to Santana.

"You have the keys to your dad's boat?" he asked Santana. "It's docked here, right?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Santana put a hand on his shoulder. "You're not going out there. The bay is huge. There's no way you'll find him by yourself."

"Well, you can either come with me or let me go alone," Blaine told her stubbornly. "I'm going out there to find Kurt."

"I'm not letting you do this, Blaine," she said sadly, grabbing his hand to stop him. "If Sebastian is out there, you could get yourself killed."

"Maybe that's a risk I'm willing to take. The keys? Please?" He held out his hand and she reluctantly handed them over. She usually kept the spare in her purse, and she couldn't hide it from Blaine if he was truly determined to get on that boat. "Get Cooper out here and back me up. I'm going after Smythe and getting my boyfriend back."

* * *

"W-What are you doing?" Kurt managed to choke out once he saw Sebastian step inside the room below deck.

"You'll see," Sebastian smiled maniacally. Kurt saw the look in his eyes and he could tell that Sebastian had completely lost it. He didn't seem to care anymore if Kurt made it out alive or not; or if he managed to escape without being sent to jail. He didn't care if he got caught. "Let's see how long you can hold your breath, shall we?"

Sebastian grabbed a box that Kurt couldn't see the label of before leaving Kurt alone below deck and locking the door again. Kurt had been sitting on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest the whole time, shaking and wondering what Sebastian had planned this time. He crawled over to the door which was partially see-through, careful not to put weight on his wrist or ankle. He saw Sebastian preparing the Jet Ski that he hadn't noticed on the boat before—it must have been on the front deck. Then he watched as Sebastian pulled something from the box he'd grabbed earlier. Kurt watched in confusion until he figured out that it was a match.

"No!" he cried, throat dry. He watched in horror as Sebastian poured liquid that Kurt guessed was gasoline on the deck of the boat. "No! Please, no!" he cried in desperation. Both entrances and exits of the compartment he was in were locked, and he knew exactly what Sebastian was doing now.

"You'll probably die before the flames even reach you," Sebastian informed him. "I estimate you have about twenty minutes before the fire has sucked up all the oxygen."

"Please let me go!" Kurt screamed. "_Please! _I-I promise I'll never tell anyone… I-I'll never testify against y-you. P-Please just let m-me go…"

"Bon voyage!" Sebastian called with a wave as he mounted the Jet Ski and tossed the match onto the boat. Kurt backed away from the glass door as the deck in front of him instantly ignited with red and orange flames. The heat hit him moments later as he sat with his knees to his chest, back against the bench.

"No… no, no, no, no, no… This can't be happening… no…" Kurt buried his head in his knees. He wanted to cry but his eyes were too dry. Besides, he knew that would only make the oxygen run out quicker than it already was. He watched in terror as the flames danced and licked the surface of the glass door separating Kurt from his death.

He tried not to panic, but it was hard when everything seemed hopeless. There was no way out at this point. He couldn't open the door because it was already too hot, not to mention _locked. _Even if he could, he'd have to jump into the water. But with the state his ankle was in, he was in no condition to be swimming, especially not all the way back to shore. He was definitely panicking, but he forced his breathing to stay even for the sake of saving his oxygen supply for as long as he could manage.

_I'm going to die, _he thought to himself.

* * *

Blaine sped over the water in Santana's parents' boat, searching desperately for any sign of Kurt. He saw someone driving a Jet Ski but he couldn't make out who it was—his view was obscured by the blinding sun. He just managed to move out of the way of the Jet Skier, not bothering to look back at the passing man in a life jacket. It wasn't important right now. He just had to find Kurt.

Then he heard something. He scanned the water for any sign of anybody else that was out here so early in the morning. He saw nothing… but he heard the sound again. It sounded like a pop, like the sound of fire melting glass or some types of metal. He looked around, confused, and his eyes widened when they landed on another boat. But the boat was on fire…

He didn't see anybody on the boat, so he figured the man on the Jet Ski must have been trying to escape the flames. So it was his boat. But, being a cop and knowing that things aren't always as they seem, he decided to take a closer look. He pulled up in his boat, staying a safe distance from the burning vessel. He steeled himself and made the long jump from his boat to the other, landing on the deck and nearly losing his footing. He coughed into his sleeve, ripping off his over-shirt that was already starting to singe. He still saw no one on the boat, but he took a quick look around anyway. He saw the door to the compartment below deck was closed; as was the sun roof. That seemed suspicious.

"Hello?" he coughed. He didn't hear any answer at first but then he heard a faint cough coming from behind the closed glass door. The door was mostly melted, and he just managed to squeeze through the opening without burning himself on the searing glass. He saw a slumped over figure on the floor, bald spots on his head and cuts and bruises covering the left side of his face that was exposed. He scooped the nearly unconscious man into his arms and didn't look back as he focused on getting him out of there. He carefully pushed the man out through the opening, cutting his own arm in the process. He cried out in pain as the hot glass cut his skin, but he ignored the pain long enough to squeeze himself out through the opening. He picked the man up again and stepped up onto the edge of the boat before jumping into the safety of the cool water, which soothed his burn instantly.

He swam with the stranger on his back until they reached the intact boat. He pushed the barely moving man up the ladder until he just barely managed to crawl onto the boat. Blaine followed, rushing to the steering wheel. He drove far away from the burning boat just in time to be saved from the explosion as the flames reached the engine. Once they were safe, Blaine rushed to the weak man's aid, his eyes widening when he got a closer look at his battered face. "Kurt..?"

* * *

**A/N: Hah, ha, ha: I'm ending it here. Well, at least they're both alive and safe now! But Sebastian escaped? Gasp! Review. Please. I do enjoy a bit of good reviewing :) **


	8. Out Of Darkness Comes Light And A Savior

Chapter 8: Out Of Darkness Comes Light And A Saviour

"B… Blaine…" Kurt managed to cough out his boyfriend's name as he lay nearly motionless on the deck of Blaine's boat.

"Kurt…" Blaine breathed out in disbelief, pulling him into his arms gently, knowing the man must be very broken. "Oh, thank goodness you're safe… I thought I'd… I thought I'd lost you…" The Lieutenant held him close, being very gentle as he examined his wounds. "Your face…" Blaine frowned in concern, seeing all the cuts and bruises and the way one side was not as lively as it should be.

"I'm hideous…" Kurt shut his eyes tight, turning as much as he could to bury his face in Blaine's chest.

"No, you aren't, Kurt," Blaine insisted, shaking his head and examining the deep cut on the left side of Kurt's jaw. "It looks like he cut a nerve… Do you feel any pain right there?" Kurt shook his head miserably, meeting Blaine's eyes. "I think it can be treated… But we need to get you to a hospital. Soon." Blaine kissed the top of his head before sitting him up gently against a seat in the boat and going below deck to grab a few pillows for him. He brought them back out and helped Kurt lie down comfortably so he wouldn't be jostled too much by the movement of the boat. After that, Blaine took his place in front of the steering wheel and started the boat, speeding towards the docks.

"My wrist is broken," Kurt told him, coughing painfully over the sound of the motor.

"We're almost there, I promise…" Blaine assured him, anxious but also so relieved that Kurt was _alive. _Kurt nodded, wincing sharply at the pain in his shoulder when they hit a wave. He heard Blaine apologizing but he didn't pay attention. He just wanted to sleep and forget about the pain for a little while. But he had to stay awake. He didn't want to go unconscious and scare Blaine even more.

He'd only been a captive under Sebastian's mercy for a little over twelve hours, but it'd felt like weeks or torment. He'd never been so scared in his life. He still had to remind himself now that Blaine would take care of him and that he was going to be okay.

Kurt tried his best to stay awake until they reached the docks and he was only half-aware of being carried off of the boat by who he assumed was Blaine. He heard sirens as he was lifted into an ambulance on a gurney. He felt Blaine's firm grip on his hand as a nurse gave him an IV and a breathing mask—to pump new blood into his veins and to help with the smoke in his lungs from the fiery boat. He heard Blaine's gentle voice in his ear. "You're going to be okay, I promise… I love you."

Kurt squeezed his hand weakly in answer, hoping Blaine heard the silent _I love you, too _that it meant.

He couldn't open his eyes. He was just too exhausted. So, he didn't really have any way of knowing where he was. He could only feel and hear. He felt himself being moved as nurses rushed him to the ER in a hospital bed. He heard shouting as Blaine pleaded with the doctors to let him in the room. He heard rapid beeping as machines actively worked to keep his heart beating.

He felt faint. He was being given about two pints of A-positive blood to replace the large amount he'd lost and he was bandaged on his hip and his shoulder and his head for all of his cuts.

He heard more shouting as Blaine rushed to explain the situation involving Kurt's damaged nerve, begging to know if there was any way to help it.

After that, it was a blur. He could tell he was slipping into unconsciousness after they stuck another needle in his arm. They must have put him on anesthesia to prepare for surgery.

When he awoke again, his room was silent all except for the low thrum and reassuring steady beep of his vital sign monitors. Although he couldn't hear anything else, he could feel a warm hand covering his. Blaine. He managed to move his fingers, giving the nearly sleeping man a sign that he was awake. His eyelids were still too heavy to open so he had no other way of showing it. He couldn't form words, either.

"Kurt?" Blaine sat up suddenly, holding Kurt's hand between both of his. "Kurt, can you hear me? Squeeze my hand again."

Kurt forced his fingers to flex around Blaine's, feeling too exhausted to do anything else. But he could hear Blaine's voice, so that was something.

He heard Blaine let out a watery laugh and he could've sworn the man was smiling in relief. "Good… That's really good. Can you open your eyes for me, Beautiful?"

Kurt tried, he really did. He felt his heart rate pick up with the effort it took, but he finally managed it. His eyes fluttered open, barely cracked open enough to see Blaine's smiling face.

"Hi…" Blaine smiled softly at him, gently and hesitantly reaching out to brush his fingertips over the side of Kurt's face. Kurt was shocked—he could actually _feel _it. "How do you feel, Kurt?"

"A…Alive," Kurt managed, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile.

Blaine chuckled, squeezing his hand again. "That's definitely a good sign. What about your cheek..? Can you… feel it? Or move it? Anything?"

"Maybe…" Kurt rasped, doing his best. He could feel Blaine's fingers brushing against his skin and he shivered at the touch, smiling at Blaine as he blinked his eyes open further. "They fixed it?" Blaine nodded, still smiling.

"I told you it'd be alright," Blaine said before kissing Kurt's knuckles. He then looked over at Kurt's other hand. "How does your wrist feel?"

"Better," Kurt said honestly, finally regaining his ability to speak properly. His throat wasn't so dry and he could actually get a full breath into his lungs without wheezing.

"They had to sort of… re-break it, before they could set it and put a cast on," Blaine told him. "But I'm glad it doesn't hurt as much as it did. What about your ankle? They couldn't really do much but wrap it and give you some painkillers…"

"Blaine, I'm okay. Honestly," Kurt told him with a small smile. "Physically, I'm just fine. Or I will be, at least. There's no real permanent damage, right?"

"Right," Blaine agreed. "I just don't want you to be in pain… You're sure your shoulder doesn't hurt? It feels like it's healing alright?"

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hand, shushing him. "Stop worrying. I'm okay… okay?"

Blaine took a deep breath and squeezed Kurt's hand in return before calming down. "Okay… Just let me know if you need anything. Anything at all; let me know and I'll have the doctors here in a second."

"Thank you…" Kurt sighed softly when Blaine removed his hand from Kurt's cheek, bringing it back to hold Kurt's hand. "D-Did they find him..?" he asked quietly.

"Santana was waiting for him at the docks," Blaine smiled. "I knew it was a good idea to bring her. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had any way of getting to you out on the boat…"

Kurt let out a shaky breath and clutched Blaine's hand like a lifeline. "So he's going to jail, right? I don't have to testify, do I?" he asked, honestly scared of even seeing Sebastian's face again; scared to even be in the same room as him.

"You never have to see him again, I promise," Blaine assured him, rubbing over his knuckles with his calloused thumb. "You're safe. He can't ever hurt you again. They found enough evidence in his car to prosecute him for assault. And they were able to tie the boat back to his ownership so he was convicted most severely for attempted murder. He's going to prison for a very long time, Kurt. I swear he'll never come near you again."

Kurt seemed to relax at Blaine's words. "O-Okay… Okay…" He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, still squeezing Blaine's hand tightly. He didn't plan on letting go. "I love you, Blaine… I'm so sorry…"

"Oh, Kurt," Blaine smiled. "You have nothing to be sorry for. This wasn't your fault."

"I never should have left your apartment… I should have just stayed with you and none of this would have happened…" Tears flowed down Kurt's cheeks—he couldn't help it—and his heart rate monitor sped up dangerously.

"Kurt, stop," Blaine said firmly. "You didn't know he was out there. You didn't know he was going to take you. This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. It's _his. _Only his." Blaine wished he could pull Kurt into his arms and hold him until he stopped crying. "Kurt, please… Please calm down. I promise this isn't your fault."

"L-L-Look at my h-hip…" Kurt stammered out, pleading Blaine with his eyes. Blaine held Kurt's hand with one hand as he used the other to lift Kurt's hospital gown. He saw the bandage that was mostly covered by his boxers and he peeled it from Kurt's skin to reveal nasty scars that spelled out two words.

_Worthless_

_Flawed_

Blaine felt his jaw clench in anger. How could Sebastian do this? How could _anyone _do this to someone as kind and wonderful and _beautiful _as Kurt? It didn't make any sense. The one thing that finally did make sense about this was that Sebastian was finally going to prison and he wasn't getting out for a very long time—at least twenty years; at most thirty-five or so. He had been convicted of assault, attempted murder, and abduction.

"Kurt, you are _perfect _to me. Those words mean nothing because he means nothing to us. You're not worthless—you mean the world to me—and you're not flawed—you're absolutely wonderful and perfect in every way possible."

"Nobody's perfect—"

"Then you're perfectly imperfect," Blaine corrected. "We all have our little quirks and things that make us different. But they're also what make us special. And you're the most special person I've ever known. I love you, Kurt Hummel."

"I love you, too," Kurt said, sniffling as Blaine wiped at his eyes gently, cautious of his cuts. "I'm so glad you found me, Blaine… Not just when we met, but on that boat… I'd be dead if you hadn't."

"I wouldn't let that happen to you," Blaine smiled softly. "You _are _my life now, Kurt. I won't let anything hurt you."

"Blaine…" Kurt yawned. "What time is it? I feel like I've been here for days."

"You were brought to the hospital three days ago," Blaine informed him, chuckling. "You were out like a light on painkillers. I've been here every second that I wasn't helping convict Sebastian and send him to jail."

"You stayed here the whole time?" Kurt questioned, confused.

"Of course, I did," Blaine said as he squeezed his hand again. "I had to make sure you were okay, didn't I?" They both smiled.

"I really wish I could hug you right now," Kurt sighed.

"I wish so, too," Blaine said, gently caressing his cheek and being careful not to touch his cuts.

"Maybe I can," Kurt said, getting an idea and smiling brightly. "Lie down with me on the bed."

"I don't want to hurt you," Blaine protested.

"You won't," Kurt pouted. "Please? For me?" Blaine bit his lip and sighed, giving in. He carefully climbed into the bed, on Kurt's right side so as not to hurt his wrist or his shoulder on the left side. The cuts on his hip weren't cuts anymore, so he didn't worry too much about hurting him there. But he was also careful about Kurt's right ankle, making sure not to jostle it. Blaine lay on his side so he wouldn't take up too much space and make Kurt uncomfortable. Kurt wrapped his uninjured arm around Blaine's shoulders. "I love you," he said, smiling contently and letting his eyes fall shut. Blaine couldn't help but smile as well, his right arm draped loosely over Kurt's torso as he propped himself up on his left arm. He watched as Kurt fell asleep, looking completely at ease for the first time since their first night spent together at Kurt's apartment.

* * *

About an hour later, Burt arrived at the hospital with Carole and Finn. He'd had to return to Ohio in order to officially get time off of work to stay in Florida for a few weeks until Kurt recovered. Also, he wanted to make sure Carole and Finn were there to help Kurt.

This was the first time he'd be seeing Kurt in the hospital room, since the first time he'd arrived had been while Kurt was in surgery and he wasn't allowed in the room. Since then, he'd been in Ohio for the past day and a half. Now he was back and fully prepared to take care of his son.

When he found the door to Kurt's hospital room, he slowly pushed it open, leaving Carole and Finn to wait outside for a minute. He expected that Kurt would be sleeping…

And he was right. But he hadn't expected there to be another person in the bed with him, gently kissing his forehead. He cleared his throat, making Blaine look back quickly and almost fall off the bed. Blaine's eyes widened and he carefully removed himself from Kurt's grasp to climb out of the bed. Kurt whined softly but Blaine gave him a couch pillow to cuddle with. That calmed him down and he stayed sleeping.

"I take it you're Lieutenant Blaine Anderson?" Burt asked gruffly, eyeing him carefully. "You're his… boyfriend?"

Blaine gulped. He wasn't sure he liked the way the man hesitated on the word 'boyfriend.' He desperately hoped Kurt's father was an accepting man. He nodded, extending his hand to Mr. Hummel in a friendly gesture. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Hummel… I'm terribly sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, though."

Burt still eyed him as he took his hand and shook it shortly before dropping his hand. "Nice to meet you, kid. And I already told you to call me Burt." A small smile played at his lips, but the smile seemed too tense. Blaine assumed that was because of the state his son was in. "How's he doing? Has he woken up yet?"

Blaine smiled small. "He was awake for a few minutes about an hour ago. He'll probably wake up again soon, if you want to wait and see him."

"I'll wait," Burt nodded. "But while I do… why don't we have a chat?" Blaine nodded nervously. He brought a chair from the other side of the room over to sit across from Burt. He wasn't going to challenge the man for the seat closest to his son. He watched as Burt held Kurt's hand, looking at him with sad eyes. Then he turned his gaze onto Blaine. "How'd you two meet? He's only been in Miami for a week."

"He asked for directions one day at the station… I gave him a tour of the city and we kind of just… bonded." Blaine smiled faintly. "I just knew there was something special about him the second we met and I knew I had to be a part of his life in some way. The fact that he felt the same way just helped… a lot. I love your son, Mr. Hummel—I mean, Burt. I love him very much."

"I can see that…" Burt nodded, smiling small. It seemed friendlier now; less scrutinizing and kinder than before. "You're the one who saved him from Mr. Smythe, then?" Blaine nodded, glancing at Kurt. "Thank you," Burt said sincerely, his voice almost cracking. "You saved my son's life. I can't tell you how much that means to me. You're welcome in this family any time, Blaine."

Blaine looked at him in shock, but he couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Burt… I do plan on sticking around for quite a long time, so it's nice to hear you say that."

"Now that Kurt's got you, I really don't think he's going to let you go anytime soon," Burt chuckled, though he meant it—and he had no idea how reassuring that was for Blaine.

"Dad..?"

They both looked over at Kurt and smiled. "Kurt… my boy, you're awake," Burt said in relief. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Kurt smiled, glad to see his father. "I thought you weren't coming until Christmas?"

Burt chuckled, ruefully. "Something came up that I had to be here for."

"I'm glad you're here, dad." He looked over at Blaine and his eyes widened. "Oh! Dad—um—this is Blaine—"

"We met," Burt laughed. "Don't worry, Kurt. I didn't embarrass him too badly. Just the basics. I'm pretty convinced you're in good hands."

"I am," Kurt agreed, smiling in relief as he looked at Blaine then back at his father. "He saved me, dad."

"I know. And I'm definitely glad you two are together." Blaine blushed, smiling at Kurt as the bruised boy held his father's hand tightly.

"I'm glad, too," Kurt said just as Blaine thought the exact same words.

* * *

**A/N: Yay! Saved! Kurt's okay, Blaine's okay, Sebastian's away—hooray! (Well, would you look at that? I'm a poet and I didn't know it.) :P **

**Okay, so I think there will only be, at most, two chapters after this one, but maybe only one. We'll see how it goes and I'll let everyone know. Thank you to everyone who has stayed with this story and continued to follow it even though I know it was pretty difficult. But now Sebastian is gone… and it was worth it. Right? I hope so. Anyways, thanks for reading. Review, please. **

**Peace off. **


	9. Wrapped Up In You

Chapter 9: Wrapped Up In You

Blaine didn't leave the hospital at all. For two weeks, he was either at Kurt's bedside, sleeping in a chair in the corner when Kurt slept so he wouldn't miss any time with him, or fetching food for his boyfriend.

Initially, they thought Kurt would only be staying in the hospital for a few days until he had recovered from surgery only partially. But they'd found out the next day that a few of Kurt's ribs were broken and he had a concussion, so it was decided that he should stay in the hospital for a bit longer. Kurt hadn't really said anything about the pain in his ribs and head because everything else was too distracting.

Now, it'd been two and a half weeks and Kurt was ready to come home. He'd recovered fully from his surgery and was able to take the bandages off, but he was on crutches for his sprained ankle. But he didn't mind so much because he was finally going home. He was especially excited about that part because Blaine had promised to stay with him at his apartment for as long as he needed him to. Kurt had, of course, agreed eagerly.

"I don't know how I'm going to get up those stairs on crutches," he said as Blaine helped him out of the backseat of the car. Burt was in the driver's seat of Kurt's car, watching his son and Blaine carefully.

"I can carry you if you want," Blaine said, mostly joking.

"That'd actually be great," Kurt smiled. "Dad," he began, turning towards his father who was just now stepping out of the car. "Will you carry my crutches and my backpack? Blaine's gonna carry me up the stairs." Burt looked skeptical, but he couldn't really say no to the look Kurt was giving him. He looked truly happy for the first time since before his first attack, and Blaine was making that happen. How could he deny that? He couldn't.

"Alright. I'll meet you kids up there," he said gruffly, offering a small smile. Kurt smiled before letting Blaine scoop him up into his strong arms, the Lieutenant kissing his boyfriend's forehead lightly. Kurt blushed, clinging to him as he was carried up the three flights of stairs to his apartment door. He expected Blaine to let him walk—well, hop—from there, but he just opened the door and carried him all the way to the couch.

"Your dad set up the rest of your furniture while you were in the hospital," Blaine told him when Kurt looked around the room in confusion, noting the television and the dining table and the couch. "Now you've got a real bed and everything."

"So you're staying here tonight, right?" Kurt asked as Blaine walked towards the kitchen to get a glass of water for each of them.

"Of course," Blaine told him, turning around and leaning against the kitchen counter. "As long as you need me here, I'll stay."

"Okay," Kurt smiled faintly, bringing his knees to his chest and wincing when he felt a pain in his ribs. He could see the bandage where his shirt rode up a bit on his hip and he closed his eyes. He never did like reminders. He not only saw the ace bandage that was wrapped securely around his torso to help his ribs heal, but he saw the bandage on his hip. He's asked for that one, especially, to cover up the scars until they faded enough that he couldn't make out the words. He didn't want to see it.

"Thirsty?" Blaine's warm voice spoke from behind him as the dark-haired boy returned. He sat on the couch by Kurt and offered him the glass of water. Kurt accepted it gratefully and sipped at it slowly. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I just came home from three weeks in a hospital bed," he joked dryly, and Blaine didn't smile. "Sorry… Too soon. Hey, now that we have a bed that's bigger than the hospital bed, do you want to—"

"Here's your backpack, kid," Burt interrupted, having stepped into the apartment a few minutes ago. Kurt looked over at him and smiled. "What's this about a bed?" Kurt's eyes went wide and he shook his head.

"No—that's not—I didn't mean _that, _dad! You remember last time when I couldn't sleep unless I had someone holding me…" Kurt trailed off, hugging his middle as he stretched out his legs on Blaine's lap. Blaine looked at him, having never heard that part of the story. He wordlessly held out his hand to Kurt and the injured boy moved forward to sit on Blaine's knee. His legs went off to one side as he rested on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine's arms wrapped gently around Kurt's waist and shoulders and he noticed that Kurt was shaking. He wasn't crying but he was obviously traumatized.

Of course, anyone would have PTSD after having been attacked and abducted by the same man, almost dying both times.

"Shh… It's alright, Kurt. You're still safe, I promise. You're safe as long as you're here with me."

"I just want to go to bed…" Kurt whimpered. "Please, can we go to bed?" Blaine nodded and glanced at Burt with an apologetic look before gently picking Kurt up. He carried him to his bedroom, laid him down on his newly-built bed, and climbed in next to him. Kurt lay on his right side and Blaine scooted in close, holding him from behind and linking their hands together. "Last time… I had to always have my friends or my brother or my dad stay with me in my apartment in New York. I couldn't get any sleep unless one of them stayed with me and held me. Even the sleep I did get wasn't _good _sleep because I just had nightmares every night…" Kurt's voice was a whisper as he explained this to Blaine, closing his eyes. "Now it's worse…" he couldn't help but let out a quiet sob. "All my nightmares were either about that night or about him finding me. Now he's found me once and he still knows where I am. That was my worst fear."

"But he can't come near you to hurt you again…" Blaine promised quietly, kissing the back of his head. Kurt's hair was still in the process of growing back, so he kept a beanie on his head to hide it. Blaine was the only one, besides his doctors, who saw it when he arrived at the hospital. Burt didn't know. "I promise I won't let him anywhere near you. You're safe now."

"I know," Kurt murmured, taking in and letting out a shaky breath to keep himself from crying. "It's just hard getting used to _knowing _that for sure, because I didn't have that assurance last time. I just had empty promises that there was no way he'd find me if I moved far enough away. And, like a fool, I believed in that." Kurt shook his head, wrapping his fingers around Blaine's the best he could with the cast on his left wrist. Their linked hands rested on Kurt's left hip.

"Now the promise is real," Blaine murmured. They both heard the door open and close as Burt left to give them some space for the night, but they didn't pay attention. Blaine pressed light kisses to the nape of Kurt's neck and slowly inched the beanie up with his mouth, revealing more skin and chopped hair.

"W-What are you doing?" Kurt whispered nervously. "K-Keep the hat on… please."

Blaine stopped immediately. "Okay…" he murmured.

"I don't want you to see that again…"

"Kurt, you're beautiful."

"I'm not… I-I'm flawed and broken a-and the beanie covers part of me up… It's less ugly showing."

"Kurt, please stop…" Blaine begged. "You're not ugly. Not even close. There is no way I'm letting that thought stick in your mind."

"But it's the truth—"

"It's not," Blaine insisted. "It's a lie that _he_ made you believe. But it's not true. No matter what he did to you, you're still beautiful just the way you are. Just trust me on this one, please… I wouldn't lie to you like he did."

Kurt's shoulders shook with sobs and he couldn't help but let it all out. Short breaths were all that escaped besides that heartbreaking sobbing. Blaine quickly moved and gently climbed over to Kurt's other side. He shifted so Kurt could lay on Blaine's chest, sobbing into his gray t-shirt. Blaine didn't know what to do.

As a cop, he almost _always _knew what to do in situations where he had to think fast. But when it comes to comforting someone, there's no manual. There're no directions to tell you what to do. It's all instinct and just _being there; _or sometimes it's saying just the right words to mend a hurting heart; or sometimes it's making promises of a better time to come. Whatever it is that needs to be done, you can never know for sure until _something_—whether it's the right thing or wrong thing for the situation—is done.

But Blaine didn't have a clue what he should do to help Kurt. He didn't want to do anything that would potentially make the situation worse, but he couldn't just sit there and not do anything. He just wanted to comfort Kurt in any way he could and make sure he would be okay.

After what Kurt had said, he realized that Sebastian had not only hurt him physically, but he'd lowered his self-esteem considerably. He left physical and psychological scars that could never heal, not fully. It's a lot harder to put the pieces of shattered glass back together than it is to smash the glass to bits.

"Kurt… Please talk to me, love… I'm here to listen and help you how I can, but I can't do that if I don't know what you're thinking."

"The whole time he was torturing me, he just kept telling me that I could never be loved; that you didn't love me. And no matter how much I didn't want to believe it—and I _don't _believe it—it hurt. It hurt like Hell and I was just so scared… I believe you, I do; but some part of me doesn't want to do anything to risk losing you."

"You'll never lose me, though," Blaine insisted desperately. "I'm not going anywhere because I love you. I love you so much, Kurt."

"I know…" Kurt sighed. "I love you, too. I just don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay again."

"That's why you have me to help you get through this," Blaine promised, kissing his forehead gently.

"I'm so glad I found you, Blaine." Kurt looked up at his boyfriend, licking his dry lips and smiling faintly. He'd finally managed to stop crying, but his eyes were still red and puffy. "I-If you wanna take off the beanie… you can."

Blaine smiled softly and looked into Kurt's eyes, as if asking for confirmation, before bringing one hand up and gently pulling the gray beanie off. Kurt winced slightly but tried not to move as he breathed in and out slowly. Blaine pulled the beanie all the way off, revealing Kurt's butchered hair and his tender scalp that had been cut. "You're still just as beautiful to me as always," Blaine smiled softly, making Kurt blush. "You're perfect, Kurt. Don't let anyone tell you different."

"Well, for now, I have you to remind me," Kurt smiled. For the first time since Burt had come to visit him in the hospital, it was a _real _smile. It wasn't forced or pained. It was content and happy.

And he knew… with Blaine, he could get to the point of being okay again. He could feel safe again. He could be _happy _again.

* * *

**A/N: Shorter chapter… Well, this is the end. There will most likely be an epilogue posted sometime this week, if you guys want it. I really hope people enjoyed this story, because it's my first multi-chapter fic that I've ever finished and, despite the sad and scary parts, I enjoyed writing it. **

**Please let me know what you think and whether or not you're interested in an epilogue. :) **

**Peace off. **


	10. Epilogue: Baby Of Mine

Epilogue: Baby Of Mine

Three years down the road, and Kurt was ready. He had this feeling in his gut that something big was coming, and he tended to be right about things like this.

There had been many times where he _thought _it would happen, but it just never did.

When Blaine had that look in his eyes, smiling at Kurt in wonder like he was the most beautiful creature in the world—he always sort of thought that was some sort of signal. It wasn't.

When they were enjoying a lazy Sunday in the park on a December afternoon(Florida Decembers were nice and sunny), and Blaine turned to him with lips slightly parted like he was prepared to ask something—he thought that was leading up to the big question. It never did.

When Kurt had set up the perfect romantic evening for Blaine's birthday in September, and Blaine kept hugging him and telling him how much he loved him—he thought maybe that would urge Blaine in the right direction. Blaine never caught on.

But this time… This time would be perfect. It was the day before Valentine's Day and he was busying himself in making reservations. He hadn't seen Blaine since that morning because he'd been called in for work despite it being his day off. They needed him for a case of some sort. Kurt didn't mind—he was busy planning Blaine's surprise present.

He heard a knock on their apartment door—they'd moved in together about a year ago and combined their money for a bigger apartment. Kurt stood up from his swiveling chair in his art studio—they'd turned the spare bedroom into one for him—and hurried to the door. He checked the peephole, still wary about not knowing who was at the door, and he grinned in surprise at who he saw. When he opened it, he was still grinning happily in shock. "Dad! Carole! What are you guys doing here?" he exclaimed, grinning in pleasant surprise. "I thought you weren't coming to visit until next month."

"Well, we have a surprise for you," Burt said. He looked like he was hiding something and he was just barely managing to refrain from blurting it out. "Carole and I have been together since your senior year of high school, as you know."

"Of course," Kurt nodded. "I don't know why you guys have waited so long—I mean, I already think of you as my mom, Carole…" He trailed off as realization hit him—he looked at both of their smiling faces, Carole's hand behind her back, and that bit of expectation as they waited for Kurt to say something. "No way!" His eyes grew so wide they might have popped out of the sockets, and he threw his arms around the two of them in a bear hug. "I'm so happy for you two! I mean, _finally!" _

Burt and Carole laughed, hugging him back. "He proposed yesterday and we had to tell you in person," Carole gushed, grinning. Sometimes, to be honest, Kurt forgot that they _weren't _married. They lived together, Carole was practically his mother already, and Kurt and Finn fought like brothers. They were a family. This was just the final piece of the puzzle—making it official.

"Please let me plan the wedding," Kurt begged suddenly. "Please, you have to let me do it."

"I wouldn't dare let anyone else plan my wedding wardrobe," Carole winked, pulling him into a hug all her own. "Of course you can plan it. I'm sure you've already got ideas?"

"I definitely have ideas," Kurt assured her. He pulled away from the hug and looked between the two of them, breathless with delight. "It's official… You're getting married!"

* * *

Unfortunately, the wedding planning would have to wait until next month. Kurt was already very busy trying his very best to give Blaine the last push he needed to pop the question down on one knee. Sure, he could have just proposed himself, but the thought terrified him to no end. Besides, that had never been part of his plans. He'd been planning his wedding and the proposal beforehand since he was seven.

Burt and Carole would be coming to visit for the entire week in March, anyway, so it worked out perfectly. The engaged couple had to get back to Ohio that night so there was simply no time.

Blaine would be getting home from work in less than an hour, so Kurt had less than an hour to prepare for their date. He'd told Blaine to be ready when he came home, and Blaine said he'd be changed and freshened up by the time he made it home from work. Kurt had told him about the date, but not where they were going or what events the night would hold.

Then again, not even Kurt knew whether or not the night would go well. Only Blaine could determine that.

Kurt took a deep breath, doing a once over in the mirror and smiling in satisfaction. His black skinny jeans hugged him in all the right places. His button-up shirt with a nice vest overtop of it hugged his biceps and his chest just right. His hair was styled to perfection—it'd grown back quite nicely since the traumatizing event that took place three years ago, which he still refused to discuss. And lastly, he had his cash and credit cards in his breast pocket and his little extra surprise hidden in his hand just in case the night didn't go according to plan. He would have to take matters into his own hands, whether he liked it or not. It was definitely far past time for this to happen.

Nodding shortly, he rushed to their bedroom to make sure Blaine's other present was safely hidden under the bed. The finely-polished guitar was in mint condition and perfectly tuned and Kurt couldn't wait to see the look on Blaine's face. He always talked about wanting a guitar, but he hadn't had one since he was in high school. He had to sell it a while ago for reasons that remain unimportant with the passing of time.

Kurt jumped when he heard keys jangling in the lock of the front door. Though he hated to admit it, answering the door still made him nervous simply because he'd been found once and he had a mostly-irrational fear of being found again. He was slowly healing from the trauma, but he knew some part of him would always be terrified. He refused therapy, too, because no stranger could understand what he was dealing with. Blaine offered all the comfort and support he needed.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he hurried to the door and opened it just as Blaine did. Blaine startled slightly at the sudden opening of the door, but he grinned at his boyfriend. "Hey, you," he said happily, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him as he pecked Kurt's lips. "You look amazing, by the way," he murmured into Kurt's ear, winking at him as he went to their bedroom. "Give me two minutes and I'll be ready."

Kurt couldn't help but stare after him with lips slightly parted, gulping. Blaine, after three years, still managed to have that effect on him. Blaine made him feel things he'd never felt for anyone else before—love, want, longing, etc.

Kurt leaned against the back of their living room couch, waiting for Blaine. "Hey, Kurt?" he called from the bedroom. "Do you know where my nice shoes are? Not the tennis shoes. I left them at the foot of the bed but maybe they got kicked underneath—hey, what's this?" Kurt's eyes widened. He ran to the bedroom, knowing very well what Blaine had just found, searching underneath the bed.

"It's your present for Valentine's Day," Kurt said sheepishly, standing in the doorway as Blaine slowly pulled the guitar out from its hiding place. "I bought it for you and didn't want to wait until your birthday…"

"Kurt, this is amazing," Blaine grinned. "Thank you." He stood up, setting the guitar on their bed and walking over to Kurt. He wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist, kissing him lightly. "I love it." Another kiss. "And I love you." Another kiss and a giggle from a blushing Kurt. "Let's go. Don't want to be late for our reservations that you won't tell me about." Kurt chuckled and grabbed Blaine's hand.

"Okay. Let's go. I'm glad you like your present. I know you always say you want one but you never got around to buying one since you sold your other one… So I figured I'd buy it for you. It's brand new and already tuned and everything, if the guy at the shop is to be trusted." Blaine laughed and squeezed his hand as they walked outside, heading to Kurt's car after locking the front door.

"It's a perfect present. Thank you. So…" he began as they got in the car, Kurt in the driver's seat. "Do I get any hints about where we're going?"

"Not until we get there." Kurt shook his head, smiling.

"But when we get there, I'll know where we're going and there'll be no point in telling me."

"That's the point."

Blaine groaned in mock exasperation, pouting. "Fine."

Kurt giggled. "You're ridiculous. But you're adorable. Now stop pouting. We'll be there soon."

* * *

"Oh, wow!" Blaine exclaimed, grabbing Kurt's hand as they got out of the car. "I _love _this place. How in the world did you get reservations? They're always booked on Valentine's."

"That's why _we're _going the day before Valentine's Day," Kurt grinned, holding tightly to Blaine's hand. They walked inside the fancy restaurant and Kurt told the lady at the front their names. She smiled kindly and took them to their table. They were immediately brought a basket of fresh bread sticks and menus, along with ice waters. The waiter promised to be back soon to take their orders.

"How'd you know I love Italian food?" Blaine questioned, grinning still. "Seriously, I love this place. Cooper and my dad used to take me here but I don't come back much because it's so expensive. You're really going all out this year with pricey stuff."

"Only the best for you," Kurt smiled cheekily. "I know that's cheesy, but it's true." Blaine laughed, quietly because it _was_ a _very_ sophisticated restaurant.

"Kurt, I have never loved you more," he smiled charmingly, reaching across the table to hold Kurt's hand. Kurt blushed, glancing at their hands and lacing their fingers together. _A perfect fit, _he thought to himself with a content smile.

After about five minutes, they'd ordered their meals and the waiter was just bringing them out about fifteen more minutes after that. They talked about their days and Kurt told Blaine about Burt's proposal. Blaine was excited by that.

In the years they'd been together, he'd grown very close to Kurt's father. He was glad to see him pulling his life into full circle. He had his son who was healthier than he'd been in a long time, and now he had a beautiful fiancé. Blaine was also quite fond of Carole—she was a wonderful lady, he thought—but they weren't as close. Because Blaine had lost his father, Burt had felt the need to be that firm father figure for him. It was very comforting and Blaine respected Burt more than anything.

After they'd been talking for a while, Kurt was disappointed. It didn't seem like Blaine was going to be pulling a ring out of thin air any time soon, and it was getting late so Kurt wasn't sure if it was necessarily the right time to bring _his _ring out. He wanted it to all feel natural—surprising, but not forced or too sudden. He wanted it to be perfect. And it didn't look like tonight was the night for it to happen.

He heard Blaine say something and he pulled himself from his thoughts to pay more attention to the conversation. "What was that?" he asked sheepishly.

Blaine smiled. "I was just saying that the dish you ordered used to be one of my favorites. The sauce is the best I've ever tasted, and the sausages are really unique that they use. It's actually horse meat." Kurt's eyes widened and he grabbed a napkin, subtly coughing the food into it. He closed his eyes tight and took a few deep breaths.

"I think I'm going to be sick…" Seeing the look on Kurt's face, Blaine couldn't help but smirk. He moved to Kurt's side of the table, kneeling beside him and patting his back with one hand. His other hand, which had subtly reached into his back pocket, was behind his back.

"Are you alright, Love?" he asked softly and Kurt looked at him, confused.

"Why are you on the floor?" Kurt started to pull him up from the ground but Blaine wouldn't budge. He was kneeling, only on one knee, and smiling brilliantly at Kurt. "And why are you hiding something behind your back? And why are you grinning like a maniac?" Blaine cut him off with a sudden kiss, moving up and closer for a better angle. When they broke apart, Kurt just stared at him, cheeks flushed. He was flustered and he fiddled with the hem of his pants pocket.

Blaine only smiled. "Kurt… Remember when I said that you'd always be safe with me?" Kurt nodded, unable to utter a word. "Well… what would you say if I said you would be safe with me… forever?" Kurt quirked an eyebrow, glancing down when Blaine grabbed his hand and laced their fingers.

"W-What do you mean?" His brain wasn't quite processing what was going on. He'd been waiting for this for a little over a year now, but he couldn't imagine in a million years that it was _actually _going to happen.

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," Blaine began, squeezing his hand as he brought out a little silver band. It appeared to have engravings on it. "Will you do me the honor… of becoming my husband? For better or for worse; to have and to hold?"

Kurt's mouth fell open and for a moment he couldn't speak. So he just swallowed and nodded quickly, tears springing to his eyes as he shut his mouth and pulled Blaine in for a hug. Blaine quickly reciprocated, smiling in relief and letting his eyes fall closed for a moment. When they finally pulled apart, only part way, Kurt held his right hand to his mouth as Blaine slipped the band onto his finger on the left hand. Kurt examined it closely, speechless and breathless in pure delight and love. He tried to read the engravings but his vision was clouded with tears of joy. "What does it say?" he whispered.

"It says, '_Safe in my arms—safe in my heart. Never to part.'_" Blaine smiled, bringing his chair over to the other side of the table so he could sit down right beside Kurt.

"I love you, Blaine Anderson," Kurt said in awe, leaning on Blaine's shoulder as he looked at his ring. He couldn't stop staring at it.

"I love you, too," Blaine murmured into his hair, holding him close. Their food was forgotten.

* * *

Later that night, Kurt and Blaine lay on their bed, tangled together until one limb couldn't be distinctly seen on its own. It was as if they were one—two heart beating as one; two souls content to have found their mate.

Kurt rested his head on Blaine's chest, listening to the thrum of his heart mixing with the sound of the occasional strum of Blaine's guitar. Blaine's left arm wrapped around Kurt's shoulders and his hand reached around to hold down different strings to make a chord. His right hand strummed slowly, not molding into a melody quite yet.

"If this is how it's going to be for the rest of our lives, I can definitely get used to being married," Kurt breathed out happily as he watched Blaine's fingers move on the strings.

"Forever and ever," Blaine agreed, smiling and kissing the top of Kurt's head. They both taken a shower and were now lounging in their pajamas. They weren't ready to sleep yet, so they just lay there, enjoying each other's company. Blaine noticed the way Kurt's damp hair stuck out in odd directions, and he smiled. He found it adorable. However, he wouldn't point it out to Kurt because he knew he hated his hair like that. He didn't like Blaine seeing his hair like that, especially. So Blaine just continued to strum, smiling as Kurt snuggled closer to him.

"Can you play me a song?"

"Sure," Blaine murmured. "Anything in mind?"

"What about the song that gave you the idea for the engravings on my ring?" Kurt smiled.

"Ah, so you caught that," Blaine chuckled. "Sure, why not? It's a nice lullaby."

Kurt hummed in agreement, his eyes fluttering shut as he rested on Blaine's chest. His hand was splayed out on Blaine's stomach, and he could feel Blaine's comforting body heat through the thin t-shirt.

Blaine began to sing, softly, and strum the guitar in a gentle melody.

_Baby mine, don't you cry_

_Baby mine, dry your eyes_

_Rest your head close to my heart; never to part_

_Baby of mine_

_Little one, when you play_

_Don't you mind what they say_

_Let those eyes sparkle and shine_

_Never a tear; baby of mine_

_If they knew sweet little you_

_They'd end up loving you, too_

_All those same people who scold you_

_What they would give, just for the right to hold you_

_From your head, down to your toes_

_You're not much, goodness knows_

_But you're so precious to me_

_Sweet as can be; baby of mine_

_Baby of mine_

Kurt fell asleep, resting safely on his fiancé's chest and smiling softly as he slept. He slept peacefully, not bothered by a single nightmare. And Blaine couldn't have been more in love with the man of his dreams.

* * *

**A/N: Yay for cheesy endings! Yes, that is officially the end. I ****_loved _****writing this chapter because it was just so fluffy and lovely and happy for my babies. **

**I'm just going to say one final thank you to all the people who've been reading this. While I love the reviews, I appreciate the silent readers as well who haven't left reviews. Thank you so much for supporting me and my work :)**

**Please let me know what you think. **

**With love, peace off. **


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